


you, just like heaven

by ebenroot



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Multi, Romantic Comedy, Slow Build, The Wedding Singer AU, akaashi is a piano instructor, and has an overbearing mother, bokuto teaches drums, but bokuto is a drummer so it's more like the wedding DRUMMER AU, lots of people get married, yaku and lev are kids and their students
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-28
Updated: 2016-04-06
Packaged: 2018-04-28 16:13:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 64,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5097020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ebenroot/pseuds/ebenroot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bokuto Koutarou has been said by family and friends to be a quote-unquote 'love freak'. </p><p>He loves playing the drums, he loves the kids he teaches, he loves his friends and he loves 'love'. And if that's so wrong, Bokuto doesn't want to be right.</p><p>or </p><p>The Wedding Singer AU with drum instructor Bokuto, piano teacher Akaashi, and falling in love montages.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. i'll never fall in love again

**Author's Note:**

> *goes back to my 'I love 80s movies phase so I just want to write another 80s fic even though The Wedding Singer came out in the 90s'*
> 
> The plot of this fic is a little bit different from the movie, but not by much. So even if you have never watched it or watched it a bunch of times like me, you'll (hopefully) enjoy it!
> 
> (and let's just pretend that gay marriage is legal in Japan)

Bokuto Koutarou has been said by friends and family to be a ‘love freak’.

He doesn’t understand the term because what’s wrong with being in love? What’s wrong with _loving_ love? All of the heartfelt moments and tender care between two individuals that want to spend the rest of their natural lives together, the grand romantic gestures that scream to the heavens how much they _love this person_ ; if loving love is wrong, Bokuto doesn’t want to be right.

It doesn’t matter what they say anyways. They may laugh at him for always going on a tangent when it came to talking about his own fiancé or roll their eyes when he mentions all the cute things that he does. Bokuto _knows_ love and _knows_ that he has the one person meant just for him, his _soulmate_. He knows how relationships work and he knows when a person truly has love in their eyes.

That’s why now, he watches over at Yukie in fondness from his designated table, the newlywed bride watching Kai take the top tier of cake just for her cause she called dibs.

“I can’t believe she has an _entire_ tier of cake,” Kuroo mutters to no one in particular. Maybe Kenma, since he shrugs, but Bokuto’s not sure if he’s really listening or if he’s just doing that whenever he thinks it’s appropriate. Since he’s staring intently down in his lap at the phone in his hands, Bokuto’s pretty sure it’s the latter.

“She’s the bride, bro. I’m sure you’d let Kenma have his own apple pie or whatever at your wedding,” Bokuto says and Kuroo rests his chin in his hand, giving a side eye towards his fiancé next to him.

“Right now, he can have whatever he wants at our wedding if he promises me he won’t have his phone out while we say our vows,” Kuroo says dryly.

Kenma pauses his game to pout in Kuroo’s direction. “You _know_ I wouldn’t do that,” Kenma says defensively and Kuroo smiles coyly. He leans forward just enough to nuzzle the tip of his nose with Kenma’s and Kenma pulls away with an embarrassed flush.

Bokuto bounces in his seat, eyes bright and eager. “You know, it’s only two more weeks now,” he says. He wants to shout it actually. He wants to shout about he’s going to be married in only _two more weeks_. He wants to shout it to the wedding band on stage right now, to the waiters and waitresses hurriedly delivering dishes to the tables, to the _entire freaking world_.

Kuroo stirs the ice cubes around in his whiskey glass and Kenma nods his head, both of their eyes turned downwards from Bokuto’s blinding smile.

“My grandmother’s flying in from Fukuoka just for the wedding. She’s really excited about meeting him for the first time and I _really_ want him to like her, you know,” Bokuto says fondly. He’s absently folding the cream colored napkin in his lap and his chest is filled with butterflies that threaten to take his breath away.

“Where’s Mitsuki anyways?” Kuroo asks bluntly and Bokuto chuckles to himself like Kuroo’s said a funny joke.

“He’s not going to be known as ‘Mitsuki’ after we’re married,” Bokuto says and Kuroo bites the inside of his cheek. Bokuto continues to play with the napkin in his lap. “Well, he’s at his place. Told me he was feeling kind of sick and didn’t think he could make it. I’ll probably stop by and make him some soup, maybe watch a movie together cuddled up on the couch,” Bokuto gushes.

Kuroo stares at him blankly while Kenma looks up from his phone momentarily. “How’s. . .how are things with Mitsuki? You two haven’t been going out that often cause he’s always saying he’s. . . _sick_.”

Bokuto hums thoughtfully. “You’re right. . .maybe I should take him to the doctor and see if there’s anything wrong. I can’t have my groom getting sick on our wedding!” Bokuto states with a booming laugh and then quiets down into a loving sigh.

Kenma looks back at his phone, done with whatever point he was trying to make at the moment. Kuroo sniffs and brings the whiskey to his lips to take a quick sip, then places the glass back down and looks past Bokuto at the chocolate fountain behind him.

“Just saying that it’s kind of weird that you two are going to get married and you haven’t been spending any time together-”

“Hey, hey, hey! There she is!” Bokuto crows, jumping to his feet with his arms out wide to hug Yukie tight to his chest as she approaches the table with part of her cake. “Congratulations!” Bokuto says into her veil and she pulls back, smiling up at him.

“Thank you, Bokuto,” she says and looks over at Kuroo and then Kenma. She waves at them, but her eyebrow furrows in confusion. “Where’s Mitsuki?”

“Oh, he’s sick. But he’s happy for you too! And we both left you a _really_ nice wedding present,” Bokuto says, practically _glowing_.

“Does it have something to do with owls?”

“It’s His and Her towels,” Bokuto spills. “The ‘Her’ towel has a little girl owl putting makeup on and the ‘His’ towel has a guy owl spritzing himself with cologne. They’re _so_ cute, I wanted to get a set for me and Aki but they were all out of the ‘His and His’ set. Maybe I could have just bought two ‘His and Her’ sets and gave the ‘Hers’ to Shimizu and her wife now that I think about it-”

“Bokuto, is something going on between you and Mitsuki? Cause it seems like he’s sick every time you want to go someplace,” Yukie says rather crossly and Bokuto blinks.

“Wha-we’re okay, Yukie! I mean, I might have to take him to the doctor to see if there’s anything wrong, but me and him are still happily in love!” Bokuto says and then gives a playful elbow to her shoulder. “Come on, you guys. If there’s something wrong, Aki would have said something already. If anything, he’s just as excited about our wedding as I am and probably wants to keep from seeing me! Isn’t it bad luck to see the person you’re marrying right before the wedding anyways?”

Now Kuroo, Kenma _and_ Yukie are staring at Bokuto with a blank expression. Bokuto gasps and then moves Yukie off to the side.

“Shit, hold on. Komiyan’s spiking the punch,” Bokuto says and runs over to stop Komi from giving half of the attendants at Yukie’s wedding alcohol poisoning.

Yukie gnaws on her lower lip and looks at Kuroo and Kenma, fiddling with her wedding ring new on her finger.

“They’ll be okay, right?” she asks and Kuroo places his hand to the side of his head.

“I wish I could say ‘yes’.”

* * *

 

Sundays for Bokuto are spent at Fukurodani flourishing young minds in pursuing the power of rock and roll. His job description is really percussionist instructor but Bokuto feels that’s too stiff for someone whose free spirit is as big as all of Japan. And really, he only teaches drumming, so the job description is not only stiff, it’s also misleading.

But he hasn’t had any complaints; kids love to learn how to bang the drums and he always has a big turnout of kids wanting to participate in the showcases. Seeing them up on stage with all of the spotlights on them, banging out a sick rhythm with their faces all aglow at the music they’re making just makes Bokuto feel all warm and fuzzy inside. It’s a feeling that’s comparable to how he feels about Aki, bursting with passion that’s hard to contain.

Bokuto’s has three students he considers to be his ‘Sunday regulars’, two boys and a girl. Yamaguchi Tadashi is around seven and gets jumpy whenever Bokuto greets him with a booming ‘hey, hey, hey!’ and a fist bump at the door. He doesn’t like a lot of people looking at him all at once and he’s rather quiet like Kenma, but he plays a _mean_ snare drum.

Misaki Hana is quiet as well and is nine, but she gets talkative immediately if Terushima is nearby. Bokuto thinks she has a little crush on the guitar teacher, but when Bokuto asks her about it, she distracts him with a challenge to a drum-off and Bokuto _can’t_ deny her wishes.

Then, there’s Haiba Lev. Lev is. . .special. The ‘this child has been through more teachers than underwear and it’s an amazement he hasn’t made you rip out all your hair’ kind of special. Lev reminds Bokuto of himself when he was a kid, full of endless energy that would better be channeled into playing an instrument instead of seeing what kind of shit you could get into without anyone finding out.

Drums are the only instrument that are able to hold the seven-year old’s interest for longer than a month and Bokuto’s been the only instructor able to tolerate Lev’s usually one-track mind, so Lev’s mother pays Bokuto _greatly_.

Bokuto watches as Lev practices over the drum rhythm he’s been taught over the hour. Bokuto has the metronome set so Lev can hear where the beat is, but Lev usually ignores it until he gets really confused. Then, he’ll listen to the metronome for five seconds, hit the drums on beat, and pretend that he really knew it all along.

Lev’s drumming is a wild mess of limbs and head-banging. The boy is practically _just limbs_ ; he goes all out and so quickly that it’s hard to follow his movements and see which part of the drum kit he’s striking with his beaten up sticks. Bokuto’s eyes scan approvingly over Lev playing in sync with the metronome for once and enthusiasm burning in his green eyes.

He’s definitely a contender for the showcase, since Yamaguchi is still working on his stage fright and he’s sure that Misaki would want to do a duet with Terushima even if she didn’t want to admit it. Bokuto reminds himself to talk to Terushima and see about maybe one of his and Komi's students could all pair up and perform as a rock band for the upcoming showcase in the winter.

Lev brings both of his hands up above his head and crashes the ride cymbal and splash cymbal with a loud clang, grinning like a madman.

“Bokuto-sensei! I’m _definitely_ going to be a rock star!” Lev screeches. Bokuto laughs and sticks a finger in his left ear to check if it’s still working, before he bends down and playfully ruffles Lev’s silvery hair.

“Course you are! You got me for a teacher, remember?” Bokuto asks cheekily and Lev makes an attempt to twirl his drumstick by his fingers. He accidentally flings it across the small area instead and it clangs against the side of Bokuto’s tom-tom. Lev huffs and Bokuto laughs, walking over and grabbing the stick to hand back to the child.

“I need to practice that,” Lev says in a hushed tone, staring at the stick intensely and Bokuto shrugs.

“Or you can practice your rhythm sheets. I’d be happier if you practiced those,” Bokuto says and opens the door. Lev gets up from his stool and stuffs all of the sheet music into his red bag to throw over his shoulder like a cool guy. He takes his long strides out of the music room, Bokuto following him out into Fukurodani’s waiting area for parents dropping their kids off or picking them up.

Lev rushes into his mother’s arms and begins his excited retelling of his lesson. She cards her fingers through his hair and nods along with whatever he says, slowly ushering him out the door and waving goodbye to Bokuto with an already growing exhausted smile. Bokuto waves goodbye and turns to Sarukui manning the front desk and holding out an envelope towards him.

“Your pay for today,” Sarukui says, usual cat grin on his lips. Bokuto takes it and kisses the envelope.

“This baby is going straight to the honeymoon fund. If I scrounge enough money up, I’ll have enough to take Aki out to Oikinawa! Just me and him on the beach for seven days soaking up the surf and the sun,” Bokuto chirps and clutches the envelope to his chest and to his heart. He looks at Sarukui and gives him a thumbs up.

“Remember, our wedding starts at noon and the reception begins at three!”

“You wrote it on the calendars in all of the music rooms and the employee lounge. It’s even on my calendar right here,” Sarukui comments and picks up his personal ‘quote of the day’ calendar. He flips to the date, Bokuto’s handwriting loudly proclaiming ‘ **BOKUTO’S WEDDING!!!!!** ’ with two cartoon owls in tuxedos getting rice thrown on them.

“Gah! It’s so close! I’m getting so excited!” Bokuto squeals and Sarukui leans back in his chair.

“You’re the first man I’ve met that’s _excited_ about getting hitched. You’re not going to be able to go out drinking with me and Komi and Konoha anymore. It’d be weird if you bring along Mitsuki and we’re all single,” Sarukui hums nostalgically and Bokuto grins.

“We’ll still go out for drinks! But I got to devote some time to Aki since he’s going to be my-” Bokuto pauses like always does when he’s about to mention _it_ , “ _Husband_ ,” Bokuto breathes out the word like it’s the most sacred of sacred, the holiest of holy.

Sarukui smiles at him, this smile different than the normal ones and more on the pitying side, not that Bokuto notices.

The front door opens and Bokuto turns to shout out his enthusiastic greeting as usual. The man that enters is someone that Bokuto’s never seen before. He’s dressed in a tan trench coat tied around his narrow waist with a messenger bag tucked under his arm. He also looks rather lost since he hesitates in stepping fully into the lobby and just stands in the doorway looking around.

“Is this Fukurodani Music?” the man asks, turning heavy lidded eyes towards Sarukui behind the desk. Sarukui nods his head and Bokuto puts his envelope in his back pocket. He marches over to the man in the doorway with his hand outstretched, stopping when he’s all up in the other man’s personal bubble.

“Are you here to pick up one of our kids? Got a kid that wants to play? Do _you_ want to play? Let me guess,” Bokuto says and rubs his chin, studying the man’s soft curves of his pale face and the dark curls of hair, “you’re into classical music.”

The man blinks and cautiously steps around Bokuto to get inside. “I’m actually into jazz. Um, I talked with Takeda-san over the phone. I’m the new piano instructor-”

“Jazz?! No _way!_ Who’s your favorite artist?!”

“Bokuto, personal space,” Sarukui calls out and Bokuto backs up from the man he’s managed to back up against the wall. The man smooths out his coat and moves his messenger bag from under his arm to hold against his chest, looking between the two men warily. “He’s harmless, don’t worry about him. Sarukui Yamato, I’ll be making your appointments and handling transactions with your students,” Sarukui introduces.

The man approaches Sarukui’s desk and shakes his hand, then turns to find that Bokuto is back in his personal space with very intense eyes. “I’m Bokuto Koutarou! I teach drums and I’m getting married soon!” Bokuto introduces into the man’s face and the man bumps up against Sarukui’s desk like he’s trying to escape Bokuto’s aura. Bokuto steps back just a bit and the man clears his throat.

“Akaashi Keiji. I teach piano and, um, I’m not getting married soon?” Akaashi introduces himself and bows his head. “Please take care of me,” he says and Bokuto places hands on his hips.

“Sure! You’re already a part of the family the moment you applied here! Matter of fact, you’re invited to my wedding!” Bokuto says and slaps a hand on Akaashi’s shoulder. Akaashi looks at him confused, then at Sarukui as if there’s some sort of hidden joke here that he’s missing.

Sarukui gives a shrug. “He’s invited everyone here, so if you _want_ to come-”

“Who _wouldn’t_ want to come to a wedding?!” Bokuto exclaims and Akaashi rubs the back of his neck awkwardly.

“I wouldn’t want to impose-”

“The more the merrier, Akaashi!” Bokuto boasts. Akaashi just holds his bag tighter to his chest and turns his gaze down towards the floor. He stands maybe a few inches shorter than Bokuto, but he looks so small when he hunches over like that. Sarukui clears his throat and gives a gesturing hand towards Akaashi.

“If the blushing groom could be so kind to show our new instructor the premises and his new room while I make some calls?” Sarukui suggests and Bokuto’s eyes widen in understanding and earnest. He clasps his hands together and grins at Akaashi, tilting his head in the direction of the hallway that he came from with Lev.

“Let’s check out your new home!” Bokuto bellows and Akaashi slowly nods his head. He gives a curt bow to Sarukui before he follows Bokuto down the hallway that’s decorated with Polaroid pictures from Bokuto’s old camera.

They’re all of the showcases and recitals, of present and past students and teachers that Bokuto always wanted to remember or start a conversation about. Any photo on the wall is a vivid memory in his head, and he runs his fingertips gently over each one as they round the corner in the direction of the studios.

“How long have you been playing piano, Akaashi?” Bokuto asks, glancing over his shoulder at Akaashi soaking in his surroundings and becoming familiar with the layout of Fukurodani.

“Since I was four. My mother was insistent on me becoming the _perfect_ child and wanted me to be well-versed in music. I know how to play the violin as well,” Akaashi comments and Bokuto whistles low.

“You can be a violin teacher too!”

“I would if I didn’t hate it so much,” Akaashi mutters and Bokuto chuckles. He stops in front of a white door with a coral black sign hanging right above marking it as ‘ **Studio #5** ’.

“This is your studio I guess. It’s the only one that hasn’t been used a while,” Bokuto says and then places his hand on the little dry-erase board that’s bolted into the wall next to the entrance. “You can write your name on here and when you’ll be in and decorate it all nice! Washio has a shitload of markers in his studio that you can borrow,” Bokuto explains and opens the door to allow Akaashi to peek inside.

It’s bigger than Bokuto’s studio; there’s a thin layer of dust on the light switch and probably on the upright piano as well due to it not being in use. Akaashi steps inside and looks around, like he’s visualizing where he wants everything to go and how he wants everything to be arranged. Bokuto watches him turn around in the center of the room, then go over to the piano and wipe a finger over the keys.

The piano is still in tune as Akaashi plays a C chord and then a D major chord augmented. The sound is loud and acoustic, ringing high into the ceiling and vibrates off the walls before it nestles into Bokuto’s ears. Akaashi pulls his hands back and rubs the dust from his fingertips, then turns to look over his shoulder at Bokuto.

Bokuto sheepishly rubs the back of his head. “You’re not that far from my studio, actually. You might even hear me drumming,” Bokuto says and beckons Akaashi out of the studio with a hurried wave of his hand. Akaashi comes close and Bokuto points a few doors down to the left, ‘ **Studio #4** ’ hanging above the door Bokuto is pointing at.

Akaashi furrows his eyebrows. “I don’t understand. How come you’re studio is number four but you’re not next to me?”

Bokuto laughs. “I liked number four’s nameplate, so I asked if I could have it over my door!”

Akaashi walks over to Bokuto’s studio to peer closely at the nameplate, then looks back at Bokuto with his face still scrunched in confusion.

“It looks exactly like all the others,” Akaashi says and Bokuto shakes his head. He places hands on Akaashi’s narrow shoulders and moves him til he’s facing south, then points at a corner of the sign.

“See that?”

“. . .Your sign is cracked, Bokuto-san. You should really get that fixed-”

“No, not that! See that underneath the ‘4’?” Bokuto asks. He moves Akaashi two steps to the right and Akaashi strains his eyes.

“. . .Please tell me what I’m looking for,” Akaashi says after a few seconds of staring and breathing out a sigh in defeat. Bokuto lifts his hands from Akaashi’s shoulders and leans against the wall with a cheeky grin on his lips.

“The instructor that came before me carved a phrase in the sign before they left. They tried to paint it over, but you could still see it in the right light. I liked the phrase so much that I _had_ to have this sign for my studio!”

Akaashi cocks his head to the side, still confused. _That’s kind of cute_ , Bokuto thinks fondly.

“What does the phrase say?”

Bokuto makes a fist and his gaze becomes intense and serious. “‘Do what the heart wants’.”

Akaashi blinks. “Ah, you’re quite the romantic, aren’t you Bokuto-san?”

Bokuto rubs the back of his head and rocks from side to side with a sheepish laugh. “ _Nah_ , but you gotta admit that’s a pretty cool saying to have. It goes with my teaching style; you can only be passionate about drumming if that’s what your heart wants, you know? Or. . .you can only play piano and learn if your heart wants it!”

“I. . .guess?” Akaashi sounds unsure, but he’s not doubting Bokuto’s reasoning in the slightest. Bokuto grins and then places a hand on the side of his whiteboard. Bokuto’s name is in the center, with his student’s names radiating outwards like they’re little beams of sunshine. His times are at the bottom in a little hand-drawn calendar detailing the days of the week in oranges and reds.

“Got an idea for what you want to write?” Bokuto asks and Akaashi rubs his chin.

“I haven’t had my first student yet. . .I’ll think about it. For now, my name and my available times will be good enough,” Akaashi says practically. Bokuto nods his head and opens the door to his studio so Akaashi can take a look even though he didn’t ask.

Bokuto’s walls are painted a bold red instead of the calm baby blue of Akaashi’s new room. There’s sheet music sprawled on the floor that he needs to pick up before it gets ruined, the metronome is still running in a steady ‘tock-tick-tick-tick’ rhythm, and his headphones are resting on his stool behind his own drumset.

“It looks like a hurricane went through here,” Akaashi says bluntly and Bokuto laughs.

“Yeah. Hurricane Lev.”

Akaashi leans back as Bokuto closes the door shut and points at the studio next to Akaashi’s. “Over there is Moniwa’s studio. He’s a pretty nice guy, teaches flute on the weekdays after school. Then over there,” Bokuto points at the next door over, “is Asahi’s studio. He’s a _big_ guy and I’m not going to lie, I thought was with the yakuza or something when I saw him, but the kids _love him_. He teaches singing and his boyfriend is _hilarious_.”

“Is it just you on Sundays?”

“Nah, Terushima – he plays guitar and has a tongue piercing – is down on the other end of the hall. Komi – well, I call him ‘Komiyan’ – he’s with a student down to the right and around the hall and teaches bass. I think Konoha’s here too, I haven’t seen him yet though. But if you ever need anything, just come to me! My door’s always open!” Bokuto exclaims, then quickly opens his door back up again to strengthen his point.

Akaashi smiles fondly at the warm gesture. “Thank you, Bokuto-san. I appreciate your hospitality.

Bokuto gives a thumbs-up. “No problem! Hey, if you’re not busy later on and since Sarukui was all sad about not going out drinking with me again, you want to tag along and meet Komiyan and Konoha?”

Akaashi looks at the ground again and scuffs the tip of his boots against the carpet. “Um, I’m not much of a drinker. Last time I went out for drinks, I puked all over my best friend’s shirt,” Akaashi admits with a flush of red over the bridge of his nose.

“Well, if you do throw up, you could throw up on Komiyan. He’s wearing this puke-green shirt today so would be hard to notice if he has _actual_ puke on him,” Bokuto jokes and Akaashi smiles. Bokuto gives Akaashi’s shoulder a good natured pat. “Come on, it’ll be fun! The bar we go to has a karaoke corner and there’s always a forty-year old man there that _loves_ to sing AKB48 once he’s had a few beers,” Bokuto explains.

Akaashi hums. “Sounds like it’s quite the sight.”

“It’s _magical_. Plus, getting the chance to know my new piano neighbor-slash-coworker over some drinks while listening to a drunk man sing like an teen idol can be your wedding present from you to me,” Bokuto says and Akaashi raises a coy eyebrow.

“Is that the only reason why you invited me? To get another wedding present?” Akaashi asks with a teasing tone and Bokuto furiously shakes his head ‘no’.

“I just want everyone I know to witness the happiest moment of my life! Getting married is a special thing!” Bokuto boasts and Akaashi nods his head in agreement, eyes cast downwards once more in deep thought. Bokuto scratches the back of his head, digging in his back pocket for the random marker that he may or may not have for jotting down appointment dates. Luckily, the marker is easily found wedged between a pack of gum and a crumbled piece of paper.

Bokuto whips it out and holds it in front of Akaashi. “Gimme your phone number so I can text you the address. Or maybe you could text me your address and I can pick you up and take you over there!”

“That will probably be better. I’m new to the area and already got lost twice trying to get over here,” Akaashi says and begins to open his bag to search for a piece of clean paper. Bokuto clucks his tongue and hands the marker to Akaashi as he rolls up the right sleeve of his plaid shirt, revealing a bulging forearm and smooth, sunkissed skin.

Akaashi eyes Bokuto’s arm for a moment, then looks at the pen waiting to be accepted, then at Bokuto’s face and his kind eyes watching him. They stare at each other, Akaashi pleading for Bokuto to allow him to search for some paper instead and Bokuto insisting that it’s alright without any words exchanged. Eventually, Akaashi tucks his bag back under his arm and takes the marker and Bokuto’s forearm gently in his grasp.

Akaashi jots down his phone number in smooth, quick strokes. Bokuto looks over it, rather impressed. “Your handwriting is _nice_. I can’t even read what I write for my grocery list!” Bokuto exclaims and looks at the number in approval. “Okay! I’ll text you when I get home, gotta run some last minute errands,” Bokuto says and his smile is blinding. “I hope you like little shrimp wrapped in bacon, cause I’m going to have _a lot_ of it at my wedding. Yakuniku, finger sandwiches, a cheese fountain – I’m probably going to fast the night before so I can eat my fill at the reception!”

“That’s probably not a good thing to do since you’ll be on your feet the entire time,” Akaashi warns and Bokuto pouts.

“Hmm, good point. . .plus my tux is white so it’ll probably be bad if I get food on it. I’ll never hear the end from my mother if I get stains,” Bokuto says and snaps his fingers. “But anyways! I’ll see you later tonight! You’re going to love it and you’re going to love this place and the kids!” Bokuto shouts, even though he’s only slowly moving away from Akaashi backwards down the hall.

Akaashi nods his head and waves his hand. “I look forward to it,” he says, smile kind and grateful.

* * *

 

Akaashi Keiji flops down into his new couch and kicks his feet up onto the coffee table, watching as his mother paces around his new apartment and inspects every single thing.

He only just got back after filling out paperwork Sarukui needed for his employment, not to mention that he got lost just trying to make it back to his new home.

His mother was waiting for him outside, whether he is ready for her to see his new place or not. Akaashi supposes it’s unavoidable; whatever his mother wants, she’ll get. It’s all a matter of whether she’ll get it easily, or after you’re done kicking and screaming.

Akaashi Ai stops and hums, looking at her son on the couch and shrugs.

“Well, it’s not bad. It’s rather homely, badly painted and this flooring is atrocious but, I suppose you're getting what you paid for,” she says matter-of-factly. Akaashi hums like he cares, already feeling drained.

“Souichi hasn’t set a date yet, so this place might end up becoming my permanent home-”

“ _Don’t_ jinx yourself, Keiji,” Ai says darkly. She moves to sit on the couch and takes Akaashi’s hands into hers, his fingers fitting awkwardly as he adjusts his grip to accommodate all the jewelry on his mother’s slim fingers. “Souichi _is_ going to marry you. That’s the entire point of you moving out here, so you two can get _closer_ and he can hurry up and set the date before you get old and you start sagging in the places you inherited from your father.”

“Glad to know my looks are the only thing I have going for me,” Akaashi says dryly and she holds his face, the rings cold against his skin.

“Oh my sweet, beautiful Keiji. This would have been so much easier if you were a girl. Then we could say you’re pregnant with his child and he’ll have no choice but to marry you,” Ai says with a forlorn sigh and Akaashi pulls away from her touch. She frowns. “It’s a means to an end-”

“Look, there’s no point in trying to force him into marrying me. If he wants to marry me, then he will. And if he doesn’t. . .look, I don’t really want to talk about this right now-”

_Bzzzz!_

Akaashi pauses and looks down at his phone, seeing a text message on his home screen. Most likely Bokuto; he’s been texting him since he came home while his mother criticized the seafoam green color of the cabinets in his kitchenette area and any other little thing that isn’t up to her standards.

**Bokuto - 19:45**

**Yoo I’m almost there!! (╯✧∇✧)╯**

“Who’s that?” Ai asks and Akaashi turns his phone away from his mother’s prying eyes.

“A coworker. He’s taking me out for some drinks so I can get to know some of the others at the music studio,” Akaashi says defensively. Ai raises a perfectly plucked eyebrow, pursing her red lips into a thin frown.

“He knows you’re taken, right?” she asks and Akaashi begins to get up to grab his coat. He doesn’t know how far Bokuto technically is from his apartment, but he’ll consider meeting him halfway there if it means he can get away from his mother’s overbearing personality.

“He’s getting married, so I don’t think I have anything to be worried about,” Akaashi says as he searches for his wallet and hears his mother give a scoff.

“So? He sees you walk into the studio, pretty and brand new to the area, and probably wants you as his last conquest before he gets married,” Ai drawls as she spins a finger in her short, curly hair. Akaashi doesn’t bother to hide his groan. “. . .Is he cute?”

“ _Mother_.”

“I’m just saying that it wouldn’t be fair if you’re cuter than he is and he’s getting married sooner,” Ai says in a pitying tone and Akaashi grabs his keys.

“I’m leaving now, and so should you,” Akaashi says with as kind of a gesture as he can make towards the door. Ai frowns at her son, but gets up anyways and grabs her purse off of Akaashi’s kitchenette counter. She cups his face again, steel green eyes staring deeply into Akaashi’s.

“Don’t worry about Souichi, he’ll come around. I’ll be back tomorrow with some potted plants to make this place more livable,” she says and gives another sneer around.

It really isn’t that bad; it’s in Akaashi’s price range and just the right size for only him yet spacious enough that when he plays his piano the sound travels and fills the kitchenette, living room and his bedroom. He wishes his mother wasn’t such a snob, it was already difficult to meet her standards as a child and he doesn’t want to meet them any longer now that he’s twenty-five.

She gives a kiss to both of his cheeks and leaves a red lipstick stain on his pale skin that she gently wipes away. “Love you, darling,” she coos and Akaashi hugs her, breathing in her perfume that lingers in her coat and on her skin. She pulls away and Akaashi holds open the door for both of them to exit and locks it shut behind him.

Ai walks down the hallway to the east elevator while Akaashi opts for the stairs to the west. He lives only on the third floor of the complex, so it isn’t much of a walk to him. It gives him more time to think as he awaits his next text from Bokuto alerting him that he’s outside, so he takes his steps one at a time at a slow pace.

Akaashi might have lied when he said he isn’t getting married soon. He might get married tomorrow, or next week, or next month. Maybe next year or two; he doesn’t really know. He doesn’t like to count how long it’s been since Souichi gave him the ring he no longer wears on his finger. He carries it in his pocket, but it feels like a heavy stone that’s becoming a weighing burden in his mind and on his heart.

Patience is a virtue, but Akaashi doesn’t like to be the one being pulled along for a ride he has no clue when it will end. He doesn’t want to tell Souichi to forget the proposal, but he also wants to go five minutes without thinking about Souichi and his future with Souichi and if moving to Miyagi to be near him is actually all in vain-

A car honking startles him out of his thoughts and he looks around. He’s already at the bottom floor and barely out the front door. There’s a car directly in front of him, Bokuto waving from behind the window and honking his horn enthusiastically as if Akaashi hasn’t notice him yet.

Akaashi waves his hand and forces the thought of Souichi down for now. He doesn’t want to ruin Bokuto’s ‘wedding present’ with his sour mood.

* * *

 

Bokuto drinks down a frothy mug of beer in one gulp, slamming the glass down and breathes out a happy sigh. “Man, that’s the good stuff!” Bokuto laughs and Sarukui raises an eyebrow, stirring around the ice cubes in his glass.

“Should you be drinking when you’re taking Akaashi-san home?” he asks in a scolding tone and Bokuto puffs his chest out nice and proud.

“It’ll take a lot more than one beer to get me buzzed! Don’t worry about it, I’ll stay sober for the night so Akaashi can get home safely,” Bokuto says and turns to Akaashi seated next to him at the bar. Akaashi hasn’t touched the gin fizz that Bokuto bought for him, idly stirring the ice cubes around with his straw. Currently, there’s some classic rock playing over the jukebox in the bar, the karaoke corner still ungraced by the presence of the drunk AKB48 man.

“So where’re you from, Akaashi-san?” Konoha asks curiously, stealing some chips out of Komi’s bowl when he isn’t looking.

“Tokushima. But I lived here when I was little.”

Everyone whistles low and Komi gives Akaashi a playful nudge in his arm.

“So why move back over here? Family? A _special someone?_ ” he asks and Akaashi rubs away some water drops rolling off of his glass.

“It’s really embarrassing actually, I don’t think I should talk about it,” Akaashi says and looks over at Bokuto. “This is for Bokuto-san, right? His last hurrah before he’s forever tied down in holy matrimony?” Akaashi says and Bokuto places a hand to his heart, eyes swelling with emotion and happiness. He throws an arm around Akaashi and Sarukui and throws a peace sign in Konoha and Komi’s direction.

“This isn’t the end, guys! We’ll go out for drinks every Friday night! Maybe even after a gig for celebrations! Oh! Did I tell you about us?” Bokuto asks Akaashi and points a finger over at Konoha and Komi. Akaashi gets out from under Bokuto’s arm and shakes his head, watching as Bokuto calls over the bartender for another beer before he turns his attention back on the piano teacher.

“We’re in a band! You know, as a side thing when we’re not teaching. We usually play wedding gigs, my personal favorite. It’s a lot of fun, maybe you can join us! We could use a keyboard player or something,” Bokuto says and mimes playing a piano with inaccurate chords.

Konoha snorts and drinks from his own beer. “I’ll be glad when you’re married so you can finally shut up about it,” he says and Komi grins.

“Aw, let him have his fun! That means you and I can go cruising and we won’t have to worry about his owl personations scaring them away,” Komi says enthusiastically. Bokuto squawks indignantly, but Komi ignores him and slaps Akaashi’s back. “We’ll bring along Akaashi-san, since I bet with a face like his, he can land _anyone_.”

Akaashi smiles uneasy, quietly drinking from his glass. Komi suddenly sits upright in his stool, eyes on the corner of the room and grinning eagerly. “Oh shit, he’s getting up there. Come on, come on, I want a front row seat,” Komi says like he’s a child about to witness a miracle. Sure enough as Bokuto and Akaashi turn to look, a man is staggering over to the microphone in karaoke corner with his business tie around his head and his shirt untucked.

Konoha and Komi immediately bound from their stools and rush to the seats on the floor, Sarukui also getting up to follow and get a seat with a clear view. Bokuto turns in his stool while Akaashi still faces the bar, staring down at his reflection in the drink.

The classic rock quiets down and is replaced by a cutesy J-pop beat, Konoha and Komi whistling loudly as the man begins to rock off beat side to side. Bokuto turns to Akaashi and grins, taking the beer the bartender offers him and tits it towards the karaoke bar.

“You think you want to go up there?” Bokuto asks and Akaashi shakes his head.

“I’d have to be _very_ drunk to make a fool of myself like that,” Akaashi says dryly and Bokuto grins.

“Come on, it’s fun! _No one_ sings well up there, so it’s not like you have to worry about sounding bad. Matter of fact, that’s how I met Aki. I was _super_ shitfaced and trying to hit the high notes in some Hatsune Miku song. I don’t even _listen_ to Hatsune Miku, so you can imagine how bad that performance was,” Bokuto jokes and looks up at the flickering light above them.

“But Aki. . .he loved it. We kept meeting up here to talk and drink and sing, I brought him along to my gigs so he can hear me play, and we’ve been together for a happy five years. Now all that’s left to do is get married so we can be together forever.”

Akaashi looks at him warmly, absently rubbing the empty space on his own ring finger. “Bokuto-san. . .what’s your fiancé like?”

“He’s amazing,” Bokuto answers like he’s answered this question dozens of times. “He’s smart and he’s funny and he can be a little quiet sometimes, but when he’s around others he really opens up. Plus, if he’s ever upset, he does a nose scrunching thing that’s really cute,” Bokuto gushes and Akaashi nods his head.

“And. . .how did you know he was the one?”

Bokuto smiles. “Well, I don’t want to brag but I _do_ have an eye for these things. I know when two people are a perfect match for each other and can spend the rest of their lives together. For example, my best friend Kuroo is going to get married to his childhood sweetheart whom he would never had met hadn’t it been for me introducing them.”

“You started matchmaking pretty young.”

“I was raised in a very loving household. Oh! And just recently, one of my friends got married to a guy I set her up with in high school. I just _know_ from looking at a person if they’re going to have someone in their life and who it’s going to be,” Bokuto boasts proudly and Akaashi looks up into his eyes.

“Can you tell if I’m going to be alone for the rest of my life?” he asks in a rasp and Bokuto blinks. In the background, Komi has started singing along to the drunk man off key.

“What? No, no of course not! Why do you think you’ll be alone?” Bokuto asks and scoots in closer. Akaashi huffs and drinks down the rest of the gin fizz before he asks the bartender for some water.

“Well. . .it’s probably not important but, I’m engaged-”

“That is _awesome_ ,” Bokuto interrupts and raises his hand for a hi-five. Akaashi stares at the hand for a few moments, before he hi-fives him back less enthusiastically. A small smile is pulling at his lips, however.

“Well, I’m not going to be married soon. Matter of fact, I don’t even know how serious the guy that proposed to me is about marriage. He came to work out here and didn’t break off the proposal and I thought that maybe I should move out here too to be close to him. . .but I’m starting to think that it was a mistake.”

“Why? You don’t like it out here?”

“It’s not that. Just. . .I don’t know if he’s ever going to follow through on it. We’ve been ‘engaged’ for two years and I think he’s just stringing me along-”

“Where’s your wedding ring?” Bokuto asks and Akaashi blinks, before he moves and slips his hand into his front pocket and pulls the band out. It’s a pretty ring, polished silver that Souichi said would look _perfect_ on Akaashi’s ring finger. For a second, Akaashi wonders if Souichi still wears his engagement band.

Bokuto takes the ring out between Akaashi’s fingers and holds it up between them. “The fact that he gave you this means he’s serious. You two just need to sit down and talk about it together, figure out where you’re going with this if you’re uncomfortable. If you still want to get married, then tell him! I bet he came out here to work just so he can earn enough money to give you the biggest and greatest wedding that you deserve,” Bokuto says, golden eyes boring deep into Akaashi’s with such an intensity.

Bokuto gently takes Akaashi’s left hand and slips the ring onto his ring finger, holding his hand warm and tight. It contrasts with the honey gold band around his own finger as Bokuto looks at their hands, Akaashi’s hand fitting so neatly into his palm.

“Plus, this ring looks like it was expensive and a lot of thought went into buying it. So it’d be hurtful if you didn’t wear it,” Bokuto chides with a loving smile and Akaashi nods his head slowly. Bokuto squeezes his hand. “I’m looking at you Akaashi, and I _know_ you’re not going to be alone. You got someone that loves you and you two are _definitely_ going to be married. And you’re going to be just as happy as me and Aki are, or like Kuroo and his fiancé or Yukie and her new husband,” Bokuto says and his eyes get big and bright. “We should do a couples night when we’re all married! That’ll be so much fun!”

Akaashi breaks into a grin and chokes out a laugh, nodding his head once more.

The bartender delivers his water and Akaashi takes it with a murmured thanks. Komi somehow managed to wander up onto the stage in his own drunken stupor and is badly singing along while Sarukui records him on his phone and Konoha points and laughs. Bokuto takes a quick swig from his beer and tilts his head towards them.

“You _sure_ you don’t want to take a swing at singing? I’m going to get you to sing karaoke someday, Akaashi,” Bokuto warns and Akaashi shakes his head ‘no’. He’s staring down at the band placed on his finger, like it suddenly has new meaning. Bokuto shrugs and puts his beer on the counter, hopping off the stool and running a hand through his gelled up hair.

“Then _I’ll_ take a shot at it. I know I sound better than those two, so I won’t destroy your ears,” Bokuto says and Akaashi gives his thanks. Bokuto reaches out and holds Akaashi’s hand with the ring on his finger, eyes kind. “Remember, ‘do what the heart wants’,” Bokuto says wispily and winks, before he turns and gives his cheeks a smack and bounds over to the karaoke corner in big strides.

Akaashi plays with the ring around his finger, watching it glimmer under the neon lights over the bar like a newly discovered treasure.

* * *

 

**Bro-kuto ＼（＠￣∇￣＠）／ - 3:03 am**

**\- Today’s the big day!!! ୧☉□☉୨**

**Kuroo - 3:05 am**

**\- I know bro u txted me five times at midnight that ur getting married today**

**Bro-kuto **＼（＠￣∇￣＠）／  - 3:07 am****

**\- I COULDN’T SLEEP**

**Bro-kuto **＼（＠￣∇￣＠）／  - 3:07 am****

  **\- I DIDN’T WANT YOU TO FORGET**

**Kuroo - 3:09 am**

**\- Bro im ur best man how can I forget?**

**Bro-kuto **＼（＠￣∇￣＠）／  - 3:10 am****

**\- Kuroo im just so happy I love him so much I cant stop crying jfc ｡ﾟ(*´□`)ﾟ｡**

**Kuroo - 3:10 am**

  **\- Bokuto I just want to let u know that whatever happens, me and kenma are here for u**

****Bro- kuto ＼（＠￣∇￣＠）／ - 3:11 am** **

**- (￣■￣;)!?**

**Bro-kuto **＼（＠￣∇￣＠）／  - 3:11 am****

**\- Ok?????**

**Kuroo - 3:12 am**

**\- Soooo best man gets as many drinks as he wants at your bar right?**

* * *

 

It’s a beautiful sunny, Saturday afternoon. The sunlight hits the proscenium arch of flowers at just the right angle to make the white flowers look like they’re sparkling with dew. There’s a wedding orchestra composed of Fukunaga’s best violin students, all dressed in white and all playing along to Fukunaga’s lead violin up front. A sweet, romantic song; the one that Bokuto says is _their_ song.

Everyone is seated in the garden chairs and Bokuto is smiling as bright as the sun above, looking over everyone in the audience about to witness this precious moment. He sees Akaashi seated with Sarukui in the second row, his mother and dearest grandmother directly in front. Bokuto’s so happy, he’s _so happy_. Nothing can possibly ruin this moment, nothing can take this happiness in his chest and in his smile away from him. The air smells of roses and love; everything is _perfect_.

Behind him, the wedding official clears his throat and turns to Kuroo standing alongside Kenma, Konoha and Nobuyuki. “Should we see where the groom is? Maybe make a phone call?” he asks and Bokuto waves his hand in a halting motion.

“It’s alright. Aki probably ran into some trouble with this cummer-whatever and wanted it to look perfect. He likes to look his best, you know,” Bokuto says, absently running fingers over his own cummerbund that his mother had to help him into.

“There might be traffic,” Kenma offers weakly and Bokuto nods his head.

“Yeah, traffic.”

“He might not be in the car at all,” Kuroo says. There’s sharpness in his voice and both Kenma and Nobuyuki elbow him in the stomach. Bokuto doesn’t make a comment, only keeping his eyes on the doors to the country club behind the invited guests, waiting for the groom to come through.

Another five minutes pass and Bokuto hears some of the wedding guests murmuring among themselves. He rocks back and forth on his heels and mouths his vows that he’s written and edited over and over again because they were always too long.

Fukunaga looks at Bokuto when one of his students blurts out ‘where _is_ he? Is he coming, Fukunaga-sensei?!’ and Bokuto sees his mother beginning to gnaw on her lower lip and wring the bottom of her skirt. Komi, in charge of the video camera, currently has it resting on some of the floral arrangements near the altar instead of the door that no one is exiting from or the rather uncomfortable expressions of everyone around him.

The doors open and Bokuto straightens up immediately with his eyes alert, but just sees Yukie trying to slip out the doors as casually as possible. She briskly approaches the altar as fast as she can in her heels and ‘best woman’ coral pink dress, eyes filled with an emotion Bokuto can’t place that makes him uneasy.

Bokuto steps off to the side as Yukie beckons him over, looking over at the guests in worry as she turns Bokuto away from all of their eyes.

“Hey, what’s wrong? Why do you look like that? Did something happen with Aki? Is he here?” Bokuto shoots off question after question without waiting for a response. Yukie places fingertips to the side of her forehead and sucks in a breath.

“He’s. . .he’s fine. Um, Bokuto. . .Mitsuki’s mother just called.”

“. . .Okay?”

“. . .She found a note. . .” Yukie looks like she is in so much pain. Her hands are holding Bokuto’s and she’s rubbing little circles into the back of his hand with her thumb. Bokuto doesn’t understand and he feels like suddenly, his heart is getting too heavy in his chest and it’s getting hard to breathe.

“Like. . .like he’s leaving without her and he’s coming on his own?” Bokuto asks with an empty smile.

“Like. . .he left a note that said he isn’t coming today.”

Bokuto stares at her, the smile still on his face but his chest is in _immense_ pain. His hands are slowly gripping into fists and Yukie’s still rubbing circles into his knuckles. “Did. . .did he say _why_?” Bokuto asks through clenched teeth and Yukie shakes her head ‘no’, looks out at the guests and then back to Bokuto’s empty and blank smile.

“I’m so sorry, Bokuto. I’m _so sorry_ -”

“It’s okay. It’s not your fault,” Bokuto says calmly. Aki isn’t coming. Aki doesn’t _want_ to come. Aki doesn’t want to get married. Aki thought it’s better to just not show up to his own wedding and leave Bokuto out here in front of _his entire family and his friends looking like a **goddamn fool** -_

“D-Do you want me to say something to everyone-” Yukie starts but Bokuto leans down and hugs her. She awkwardly pats his back and he rests hands on her shoulders.

“I’m. . .I’ll be - I’m going to just - can you give me a moment? I-I’ll be right back,” Bokuto’s words fall out of his mouth though clenched teeth and a stiff smile. He breaks away from Yukie before she could say anything else and numbly begins to walk to the country club flashing everyone a dead smile.

Did Bokuto did something wrong? Did he rush things? Did Aki want to be married at _all?_ Bokuto is supposed to be holding Aki’s hand now and preparing to say the vows that he’s spent _months_ on, but now he’s stewing in his own thoughts as he tries to review what would make Aki _do this_.

Everyone is whispering and some people realize immediately what’s going on. Bokuto’s face begins to flush with shame and his cheeks are starting to hurt from smiling. He barely steals a glance at Akaashi’s face, shocked and Sarukui’s eyes full of pity, before he rounds the corner around Fukunaga’s violin students and into the dressing tent for those participating in the wedding.

It smells of cologne and hairspray and sickens Bokuto’s stomach. He staggers over to the mirror for the girls and takes a look at his face, sickly looking and his eyes dull and watery and he’s still _smiling_.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” he tells his reflection as he hears the guests getting louder outside and Fukunaga’s students stop playing.

“It’s okay, it’s okay. Everything is alright. Everything is alright,” Bokuto repeats like a mantra or like a spell that’ll make Aki suddenly appear ready to be married.

“Oh my god, he isn’t showing up,” Bokuto’s ears hear someone say, loud and clear and it makes Bokuto want to vomit. Aki isn’t showing up. Aki isn’t showing up. _Aki isn’t coming to their wedding_.

Bokuto stares at his reflection and his smile finally falls into a grimace.

Then he takes the mirror and hurls it to the ground, shattering loudly at his feet for everyone to hear.


	2. the first cut is the deepest

Yukie sets a plate of wedding cake in front of Bokuto and smooths out her dress. “Cake makes me feel better, so it should make you feel better. This is even your favorite flavor,” she says with a smile. Bokuto stares at the sweet confection, a gigantic lump of chocolate cake with creamy white icing and a pink rose petal on the side. It’s supposed to make him feel better, but it just makes him feel even worse.

They’re at Bokuto’s mother’s home, Yukie dismissing the wedding guests while Kuroo kept Bokuto from causing more of a scene than he already did. Everyone’s still in their wedding outfits and all are in the kitchen trying to console Bokuto any way that they could.

Bokuto takes a fork and pushes some of the cake around on his plate. “This is supposed to be the part where me and Aki cut our cake and try to feed each other but we’d smash it all over our faces,” Bokuto mumbles.

“I can smash it in your face for you,” Kuroo offers and Kenma shoots him a look. Bokuto shakes his head and continues to push the cake around, smashing it gently with his fork. Kuroo leans forward and takes a bottle of champagne to open and pour them all a glass. “Bokuto, it’s alright to be angry,” Kuroo says and Bokuto hums.

“About what?”

“What do you mean ‘what’? About that dick leaving you at the altar,” Kuroo grumbles and Bokuto frowns.

“Don’t say that about him,” Bokuto warns. Bokuto’s grandmother takes the champagne glass that Kuroo offers her and brings it to her lips.

“I haven’t met the man, but anyone that thinks they can treat you that way, Koutarou, _is_ a dick,” she says frankly. Kuroo raises his hand for a hi-five and the woman humors him by hi-fiving back, while Kenma places a hand to his head and sighs through his nose. Bokuto slumps in his chair and runs his hand through his hair that’s losing its hold.

“We’re gonna get back together,” Bokuto says, a tinge of pathetic hope lingering in his voice. “W-We’re gonna get back together and talk it out and things are going to be weird if you two think that way about him so just _don’t_. _Please_.”

Kuroo bites the inside of his cheek and Bokuto’s mother rubs her son’s back in comforting circles, like she used to when he was a child. Bokuto pushes the plate of cake away and buries his face into his palms to groan.

“I just wish I knew where he was,” Bokuto mumbles into his skin. He’s been calling Aki’s cell phone constantly with no reply, and his mother was no help in telling where her wayward son is.

This is supposed to be the best day of Bokuto’s life and it just became the biggest shitfest Bokuto’s had to endure.

* * *

 

**Sarukui 11:10 am**

**\- Hey man I know ur not feeling well but u cant just not show up for misaki and yamaguchi like this without telling them**

**Koutarou 11:12 am**

**\- Sorry**

**Sarukui 11:12 am**

**\- Are you going to be here for lev at least or should I call his mother and let her know you’re not in?**

**Koutarou 11:15 am**

**\- I’ll come in**

**Koutarou 11:15 am**

**\- Sorry**

**Sarukui 11:16 am**

**\- Do you want to go out with komi and konoha tonight?**

**Koutarou 11:18 am**

**\- Ive finished off the bottles of champagne yesterday, I don’t really want to drink anymore**

**Sarukui 11:18 am**

**\- Do you need konoha to pick you up?**

**Koutarou 11:20 am**

**\- No**

**Koutarou 11:20 am**

**\- Sorry**

**Koutarou 11:20 am**

**\- I’ll be there just tell them to wait**

**Sarukui 11: 21 am**

**\- Just hang in there bokuto**

* * *

 

Bokuto arrives to Fukurodani about fifteen minutes late for Lev’s lesson, dressed in a shabby coat, a frumpy shirt, and jeans with a hole in the right knee. The music bag he usually carries is flung over his shoulder stuffed with papers he doesn’t remember if they cover today’s lesson or not. He looks like shit and feels like it too, he didn’t even have his hair spiked like normal and it looks flatter than usual.

When he drags his feet into the music studio, Sarukui watches him pass the front desk with pained eyes.

“Lev’s already in your music studio,” Sarukui mentions and Bokuto grunts ‘ok’. The lights seem too blinding and he covers his eyes as he passes the Polaroid wall and rounds the corner.

Lev’s drumming sounds chaotic and disturbing from the hall, all _boom!_ and _crash!_ without any sort of rhythm or control. He wonders how long the boy has been going at it, or if the boy tried to use the time to practice _a little_.

He passes by Akaashi’s studio and pauses when he hears a sweet and gentle piano melody in synch with a choppy rendition of ‘Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star’ coming from behind the slightly open door. Bokuto looks at Akaashi’s whiteboard and sees Akaashi’s neat and pretty handwriting in blue and black ink. His name is centered with a blackbird taking flight off of a branch. Below the branch, ‘ _Yaku Morisuke_ ’ is written right above ‘ **Sunday 12:30** ’ and then ‘ _Tsukishima Kei_ ’ is written above ‘ **Sunday 1:45** ’.

He peeks inside the little window in the door, seeing Akaashi leaning over a much smaller boy trying to play in time with Akaashi’s fingers. Akaashi’s face is soft and his smile is peaceful; for some reason, watching Akaashi play takes a little bit of edge off Bokuto’s nerves and he relaxes for a few seconds.

**_BOOMBOOMBOOMCRASHCRASH_ **

Bokuto briskly walks to his studio and opens his door, seeing Lev sitting at his own drumset, but banging with Bokuto’s thicker drumsticks. Lev’s eyes brighten in excitement and he raises Bokuto’s drumsticks.

“I thought that if I played with your drumsticks, then I’d be a rockstar faster!” Lev explains his logic and Bokuto closes the door behind him. He places his bag near his drumset and takes his sticks from Lev.

“You become a rock star by talent, not through your equipment,” Bokuto explains and Lev nods his head.

“Bokuto-sensei, is it true that your Beyoncé left you at your wedding last week?” Lev bluntly asks and Bokuto stiffens. The child has no amount of malice in his eyes and is genuinely curious. He actually seems amazed and Bokuto only gets annoyed for a few seconds before he sighs deep through his nose and sits down at his drumset.

“The word is _fiancé_ and yes, he did. That’s not important right now.”

Lev gapes. “Whoa, that must have been _really_ _embarrassing_. Didn’t _everyone_ here go to your wedding?”

“It’s _not_ important, Lev,” Bokuto repeats and rubs his head. “How did you even find out?”

“Inuoka told me.”

Ah, Inuoka is one of Fukunaga’s students. No doubt he was part of the wedding orchestra. Lev bobs his foot up, then leans forward rather abruptly and almost falls into his snare drums.

“Bokuto-sensei, it’s okay! Rock stars don’t get married anyways cause they’re too cool!”Lev shouts and Bokuto gives a nod, turning his drum sticks around in his grasp.

“Right. . .thanks for cheering me up,” he says meekly and Lev gives him a thumbs up.

* * *

 

Lev is getting better, but there’s still room for improvement. Bokuto partially blames his own crappy attitude for them not getting very far in their lesson today. It’s one thing to feel shitty at home, it’s another thing entirely to feel that way at work and have it hinder his teaching.

As Bokuto watches Lev pack his things and throw all of the paperwork into his bag like usual, he resolves to pull his act together for his kids. They deserve the finest teaching they can get, and he doesn’t need to be in ‘dejected’ mode right now.

Bokuto and Lev exit out of the studio at the same time the door to Akaashi’s studio opens. Akaashi walks out with a small boy with copper hair and a messenger bag with cute cat keychains hanging from the zipper. Akaashi notices Bokuto and he smiles warmly, placing a hand on his student’s shoulder to keep him from walking off down the hallway.

“Bokuto-san,” Akaashi greets and Bokuto waves his hand, wishing he didn’t look like such a slob right now. Akaashi’s dressed in a blue-button up and vest with black slacks and polished dress shoes. Akaashi looks like an actual instructor here instead of Bokuto who looks like a bum that just rolled off the streets.

“Hey, Akaashi. Is this a student of yours?” Bokuto asks and Akaashi nods his head and gestures to the boy next to him.

“This is Yaku-san. He’s one of my new students,” Akaashi introduces. Yaku bows his head out of respect and Bokuto clears his throat, gesturing to Lev who’s staring at the boy with an intense gaze.

“Ok, Yaku-kun. This is Haiba-”

“You’re so _short!_ ” Lev blurts and walks up to Yaku to measure them both himself. Yaku barely meets Lev’s chest and Lev places his hand over Yaku’s head before moving it over his own. “W _ooah_ , are you one of those smart piano kids that are five or something?”

“I’m nine!” Yaku shouts defensively. He looks ready to punch Lev by the way he has his hand in a tight fist, but Bokuto hopes that Lev isn’t too dense to realize he’s making the boy angry.

Lev gawks. “Eh?! But you’re so tiny! There’s no way you’re older than me!”

Well, there’s that.

Yaku huffs and his face is growing red with either embarrassment or anger or maybe both. Bokuto walks over and reels his student back, laughing and passive-aggresively rubbing Lev’s head.

“He’s a good kid, honest, Yaku-kun!”

Yaku turns his nose up like he doesn’t believe Bokuto. Akaashi smiles and gently threads his fingers through Yaku’s hair.

“I’m sure he is. . .Morisuke, do you want me to walk you out?” Akaashi asks and Yaku shakes his head, holding the strap of his messenger bag. Akaashi nods his head. “Alright then, I’ll see you next week. Remember to work on your scales for C major and A minor and try to get both hands together, okay?”

Yaku nods his head in agreement, then shoots an oblivious Lev a dirty look before he continues down the hallway to the front lobby. Akaashi turns to Bokuto and wraps arms around himself. He looks like he wants to ask if Bokuto’s alright, or if the man is still broken up after what happened at the wedding. Akaashi looks like he wants to offer some sort of comforting words or _something_ to Bokuto.

Instead, Akaashi smiles and reaches out to pull up a bit of Bokuto’s hair so it stands at its usual height. “You laid off the hair gel today, huh?” Akaashi jokes and Bokuto blinks, running a hand through his hair.

“Uh, I didn’t have time to really do my hair. . .or get ready,” Bokuto murmurs and Akaashi hums.

“I kinda like your hair flat. You don’t look like an owl,” Akaashi says and Bokuto puffs his cheeks.

“Well, owls are majestic birds so you’re just insulting me right now by saying I don’t look like an owl,” Bokuto quips. Akaashi places a hand to his chest like he’s hurt and Bokuto smiles at him, running his hands through his hair and spiking it up with whatever gel he _did_ manage to work into his hair right before he left.

“I never heard of owls being majestic, but whatever you say,” Akaashi says in a sing-song tone that’s lilted and quiet. He waves goodbye to Lev and Bokuto before he walks past them in the direction of the lounge for teachers.

Bokuto looks down at Lev. “Next time you see Yaku-kun, you should apologize.”

“Eh? Why? I just said he’s short. He could have called me tall or something,” Lev says aloud as they continue down the hall.

“Usually, that’s not an insult.”

“. . .I didn’t mean to make him angry. Sheesh, short people are sensitive.”

“Don’t say that either.”

Lev pouts.

They enter the lobby, yet Lev’s mother isn’t waiting for him like usual. Bokuto’s expression of confusion must be obvious since he hears Sarukui call out, “Oh, Lev’s mother said that she’ll be running a little late. There’s traffic.”

Lev turns and jumps in his spot. “Can we still play drums, Bokuto-sensei?!”

“Well, it wouldn’t be bad if we practiced a little bit more until she comes-”

The front door opens and Bokuto turns to give his greeting really quick, but his words become frozen in his throat when he sees just _who_ is entering through the door, huddled in a coat and looking sheepishly around.

His fiancé.

Or maybe his ex-fiancé? Bokuto isn’t sure what they even _are_ now and all of the emotions he’s been dealing with come flooding back into his mind and his feet get stuck in place. Mitsuki Akira walks over to Bokuto and Sarukui immediately turns his head away, deciding to busy himself with his quote-a-day calendar instead of witnessing a sure to be _awkward_ conversation.

Aki smiles at Bokuto like he used to, like he _didn’t_ leave Bokuto at the altar last week. “Hey. . .you weren’t at your place so I thought you might be here,” he says, pushing a strand of straw blond hair back behind his ear.

Bokuto swallows the dry lump down his throat, but still feels like his mouth is full of sand. Even after this time of not talking to him and Kuroo encouraging him to feel angry towards him, Bokuto still thinks Aki is beautiful. His hair, his smile, his copper eyes, Bokuto just _wants_ him and be able to proudly proclaim that this man is _his_ husband. He just stares at Aki, trying to sort though his words and conflicting feelings to say a proper sentence.

Lev looks Aki up and down and then cocks his head to the side. “Are _you_ Bokuto-sensei’s fiancé?” Lev correctly asks and Aki looks down at him.

“Well. . .I guess I am.” He doesn’t sound too happy to be called that; it makes Bokuto’s head hurt.

Lev smiles big. “Komi-sensei was talking about you with Fukunaga-sensei! He said. . .um. . .he said,” Lev pauses and tries to remember what the other teacher said, focusing hard until he jumps in realization. “He said you’re a real _dick!_ ”

Well _that_ immediately makes Bokuto’s brain begin to function.

Aki glares down at Lev’s innocent smile and Bokuto quickly turns and begins to shoo Lev back down the hall. Sarukui is trying to keep his laughter quiet and failing miserably, so he’s hunched over his desk and snickering into his appointment book.

“Go play drums,” Bokuto blurts and Lev dashes off back towards his studio. Bokuto turns back to Aki and gives an awkward smile to Aki’s annoyed expression. “. . .Kids say the darndest things, you know.”

“Yeah. Really cute,” Aki says dryly and steps closer. “I need to talk to you. Outside.”

Bokuto nods his head, giving a glance at Sarukui before he follows Aki outside of the studio and into the small parking lot. It’s cloudy up ahead, but the sun’s beams come through just barely. It’s cool and there’s a light breeze as well, but Bokuto feels a chill going up his spine when he sees Aki looking at him so distant and nonchalant.

“. . .So, I’m sorry for not returning your calls. I just couldn’t do it,” Aki says like he’s getting a major weight off of his chest. Bokuto nods his head and rubs his arm.

“I-It’s okay. You know, if you didn’t want to get married now and need more time, I can wait-“

“No, that’s not it,” Aki cuts him off and huffs, “Koutarou, I’m never going to marry you. I don’t _want_ to get married to you.”

Bokuto blinks, then unknown to him a frown begins to form on his lips. “Well that would have been nice to know _last week_ instead of you letting me make a fool out myself,” he spits and Aki crosses his arms.

“I didn’t know how to come out and say it. I didn’t want to hurt you after you were getting _so excited_ about the wedding and the planning-”

“So leaving me at the altar was your idea of a better way to say ‘hey, I don’t want to marry you’?!”

Aki points a finger. “See? This is _exactly_ what I was trying to avoid.”

Bokuto holds his aching head. “I don’t – how did you even – _why_?”

Aki pulls his jacket closed and tight, glancing over at the bakery shop next door and the colorful, frosted treats in the window display.

“It’s been bothering me for a while, actually. I didn’t know what it was until I had a talk with some friends and finally came to a conclusion,” he says and looks at Bokuto’s dumbfounded face. “Koutarou, I’m not in love with you _now_. I’m in love with the Koutarou _six years ago_. Remember when you used to play gigs at bars and festivals and I thought you’d hit it big and I get to be the boyfriend of a famous drummer?”

“That could still happen, you know. We still play gigs and we could still get spotted,” Bokuto says weakly and Aki places a hand to the side of his head.

“The _point_ is, I woke up that morning realizing that I’m _not_ marrying a famous rocker. I’m marrying a teacher that moonlights as a _wedding drummer_ ,” Aki says and gestures to all around them, “Look at this place, it’s boring! I want to _leave_ here and I’m not going to if I get stuck marrying you!”

“Why do you want to leave here? This is a nice town with good people. I love my job and I love these kids; it’s a great place to settle down and have a family,” Bokuto says, though he sounds like he’s pleading. Is there something he’s missing? He doesn’t understand what Aki is trying to say to him.

Aki scoffs. “You practically _live_ at your mother’s house instead of your own _small_ apartment while you go play at gigs that’ll take you nowhere. Sounds like a real dream.”

“ _Why couldn’t you have told me any of this last week?!_ ” Bokuto yells and Aki’s skin flares red and he scrunches his nose. Bokuto mentally curses in his head, because dammit that’s still really cute.

“We grew apart, okay?! And I couldn’t tell you because you were _so happy_ about getting married. Face it, Koutarou. You just want to get married and you don’t care who it is so long as it’s done like in the movies with a big fancy wedding cake and doves being released.”

“That isn’t true,” Bokuto says with a shaky voice. He loves Aki. _That’s_ why he wants to marry him. He doesn’t want to marry Aki just for the sake of being married. . .right?

Aki crosses his arms and bites the inside of his cheek. “Look, I just wanted to explain myself to you so you could stop calling me. We’re done, Koutarou. . .sorry.”

Bokuto feels like he can’t breathe and his head is aching. Aki turns and briskly begins to walk to his car, not even bothering to look back at the wreck Bokuto is slowly turning into. Bokuto’s legs feel numb and and his vision blurs, wishing that his voice would find a way to croak out something to make Aki stop and look at him.

No, no they _can’t_ be over. He’s supposed to love him. He’s supposed to be his _soulmate_. Bokuto thought he knew, he thought that Aki loved him and he could see it in his eyes. All this time, Aki wasn’t in love with him and Bokuto didn’t realize it. Bokuto can’t breathe, he _can’t breathe_.

“Bokuto? _Bokuto!_ ”

Bokuto gasps for air as someone’s hand shakes his shoulder, blearily seeing Sarukui standing next to him looking at him worried. “Are you okay?” he asks and Bokuto rubs his face, his legs feeling like they were going to give out any second.

“You know how I said I wasn’t up for drinks tonight?”

“. . .Yeah?”

“I changed my mind.”

* * *

 

**Akaashi Keiji 19:04**

**\- Bokuto-san**

**Akaashi Keiji 19:06**

**\- I know you’re going through some difficult times right now, but I just want to let you know i’m here if you ever want to talk**

**Bokuto 19:10**

**\- Thanks**

**Bokuto 19:10**

**\- You like being a teacher so far?**

**Akaashi Keiji 19:11**

**\- I love it**

**Akaashi Keiji 19:12**

**\- Yaku-san and tsukishima-san are wonderful students**

**Bokuto 19:20**

**\- Good**

**Bokuto 19:20**

**\- Im glad someone sees how nice it is**

**Bokuto 19:20**

**\- I don’t want to bother you with my problems akaashi**

**Akaashi Keiji 19:22**

**\- Its no trouble**

**Akaashi Keiji 19:30**

**\- bokuto-san?**

**Akaashi Keiji 20:00**

**\- I hope you have pleasant dreams**

* * *

 

Akaashi used to like his new apartment, when it was filled with things he got for a really cheap price and offered a lot of room to move around. Now, it’s stuffed to the brim with useless crap his mother bought for _aesthetic_. He’s staring at a statue that’s supposed to improve the feng shui of his home, but it’s an eyesore and it’s making it rather difficult to get to his couch without clamoring over the armrest.

In the middle of pondering whether or not he can sell a good portion of these things and tell his mother he just got robbed, there’s a knocking at his door. Akaashi puts his plan on hold and crosses to the door, opening it and immediately having arms thrown around his shoulders to pull into a crushing hug.

“Keiji!” Koushi shouts and Akaashi almost falls backwards onto his ass from the man’s weight. He steadies them both and pulls back to see Koushi’s big grin.

“Suga-san, nice to see you too,” Akaashi says and Koushi releases his death grip on Akaashi. “You made it out here alright?”

“Yeah. It may not be Tokyo, but it’s a lot easier to see you now than having to fly to Tokushima,” Koushi explains. He’s biting his lower lip and his amber eyes are shining with excitement that used to be in Bokuto’s eyes when he talked about getting married. Course, Koushi’s already married, so that can’t be it.

Koushi clasps his hands together. “I have someone I want you to meet,” he says and steps back outside the door.

“Is it Sawamura-san? I already met your husband, Suga-san-”

“Tah-dah!” Koushi shouts, slowly leading in a baby that must be older than one but not yet two, since they’re awkwardly tottering inside. He looks up at Akaashi with big black eyes that look rather sleepy, like Koushi just woke him up from his nap just to show him off.

“We did a surrogate two years ago and this is the result! Isn’t he cute?! He’s just learning to walk, here watch. He’s _so good_ ,” Koushi gushes and toes off his shoes before he runs into Akaashi’s living room.

Koushi gets on his stomach on the floor and holds his hands out. “Come here, Chikara! Come here, Chika-chan! Come to Papa!” Koushi encourages. Chikara looks up at Akaashi again and then back at his father on the floor cooing at him to walk over. Chikara takes a shaky step forward with his right foot and then his left, waddling like a little duckling as he crosses the genkan in his baby blue footie pajamas.

Chikara then waddles away from Koushi’s outstretched arms and towards the ugly feng shui statue instead, marveling at the odd colors and the weird shape of it. Akaashi chuckles as the child reaches a tentative hand to touch it as if it’s going to attack, Koushi still on his belly trying to get his son to walk towards him.

“Is he still trying to show you Chika-chan’s walking towards him?” another voice asks and Akaashi turns to see Oikawa Tooru standing in his doorway holding a baby carrier looking down at Koushi on the floor. He wrinkles his nose. “He did the exact same thing when he came to pick me up and it took Chika-chan fifteen minutes to finally walk over to him,” Oikawa explains and then his eyes brighten. “But it’s nice to see you again, Kei-chan!” Oikawa coos and hugs Akaashi firm and tight as well.

Oikawa pulls away and looks around at his apartment rather approvingly, setting the carrier down. “I like what you did with the place,” he says, taking off his shoes and stepping over the genkan and over Koushi still on the floor. Akaashi steps over Koushi as well, watching the brunet walk around and snoop through all of the things his mother recently bought.

“Since we’re good friends, you can have some stuff. I don’t mind,” Akaashi bargains and Oikawa hums, reaching down to take a small little glass candle holder that isn’t in Akaashi’s way and is actually something that Akaashi _liked_.

“I’ll take this then! I can put it in my bedroom!” Oikawa proclaims. Akaashi just sighs.

Koushi finally gets up when he sees Chikara trying to put his mouth on the blunt end of the statue, scooping up the child in his hands and holding him tight to his chest. Chikara snuggles into Koushi’s warmth and buries his face in Koushi’s chest, his little hand clutching the front of Koushi’s t-shirt nice and tight.

Koushi dips his nose down into Chikara’s hair and hums softly, sitting down on Akaashi’s couch and bounces his child with gentle movements. Akaashi watches him fondly, and wonders if he and Souichi will become like Koushi and Daichi. Married and with a child of their own to cuddle and fawn over.

The thought begins to bother Akaashi when he starts thinking about how distant he and Souichi have gotten, so he quickly distracts himself by rushing to get Oikawa and Koushi something to drink.

“How is it being back in Miyagi?” Oikawa asks, sitting down next to Koushi and admiring his new holder.

“I was ten when we moved, so everything feels different here. I feel like a fish out of water,” Akaashi says and takes some cups from his cabinet and checks the fridge for some sodas.

“And what about Souichi? Any progress there?” Oikawa asks. Akaashi stiffens momentarily, before he fills the glasses with some ice.

“No. I’ve talked to him on the phone, but it was moreso him checking in on me and how I’m doing than talking about setting a date for the wedding. . .I don’t know what to do. He’s always busy at work, I don’t want to come off as obsessive and nagging about when are we going to get married-”

“Do it,” Oikawa says with a ‘hmph’, turning the holder around in his grasp. “Kei-chan, you can’t be a doormat.”

“I’m _not_ being a doormat. I just don’t want to be like my mother and be overly pushy on something,” Akaashi corrects and sets the drinks down in front of his friends, making sure to use the stupid (and unreasonably expensive) coasters his mother insists he needs.

“You should say you’re having an affair and give him an ultimatum. Either marry you, or you leave him and run off into the sunset with some guy on a white stallion like in those crappy romance novels Kou-chan reads,” Oikawa says nonchalantly, opening his soda to pour into the glass.

“Sometimes I wonder if _you’re_ actually my mother’s son, Oikawa-san,” Akaashi deadpans.

“Plus screw you, those are good books,” Koushi says defensively as Chikara coos in agreement. Oikawa snorts into his glass.

“Remember when Dai-chan tried to propose to you on a horse and he fell-”

“Getting off topic! We need to help Keiji somehow get married!” Koushi snaps with an embarrassed flush breaking out over the bridge of his nose.

“Preferably without resorting to manipulation,” Akaashi adds, reaching for his phone when he sees it light up from a text message. It’s only Sarukui asking if Akaashi wouldn’t mind taking on one more student, but on Thursdays. He hasn’t received a text from Bokuto at all since he saw him on Sunday. Akaashi knows it’s not in his place to pry, it isn’t like he knows what happened between Bokuto and his fiancé. But still. . .he wants to help.

“Who are you texting?” Koushi asks and Akaashi shakes his head.

“No one, just seeing if I can come in on Thursdays to teach at the studio I’m working at.”

“Is there anyone cute there? Maybe you could have your secret love affair with one of them,” Oikawa suggests and Akaashi rolls his eyes.

“Since no one is suggesting anything _sensible_ then I’ll do what I have been doing and just _wait_. He’ll say something eventually,” Akaashi says and looks down at the ring Bokuto placed on his finger with a soft smile. “He gave me this ring, so I know he loves me and still wants to be with me.”

Oikawa quirks an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me _you’re_ reading those crappy romance novels too.”

Koushi squawks. “They’re _not crappy!_ ”

* * *

 

“K-Koutarou! What are you doing here?!”

Bokuto stumbles past his mother and takes his shoes off, the woman watching her son with worried eyes and holding her nose. “You _reek_ of beer! Don’t tell me you _drove_ here in that condition!” she cries out and Bokuto holds his aching head.

“No Mama, I just walked.”

“But we’re 48 kilometers apart!”

“The bar is halfway.”

Bokuto Manami throws her hands into the air, but quickly reaches out to steady her son when he staggers and almost falls into the floor lamp she has by the entrance area. She walks him into the living room and Bokuto flops onto the couch like dead weight. Manami gets down and places a gentle hand to Bokuto’s forehead and moves it to cup his face.

“Koutarou, I’m getting worried about you-”

“M’ fine, Mama. I just. . .I just wanna go to sleep,” Bokuto mumbles and she runs a hand through his hair. It’s silky and soft; it reminds her of when she would absently run fingers through his hair when he was a child and they both watched his Saturday morning cartoons while her husband prepared breakfast.

Bokuto turns his head and blearily looks in the direction of the television currently on the local news. “Have you been watching some home videos lately?” Bokuto asks with a raspy voice and Manami blinks.

“No, I haven’t.”

“Can I watch some? Can I watch you and Dad’s wedding video?” Bokuto asks with a weak smile. Manami bites her lower lip, not sure if she should do such a thing. It might make him think about his own wedding; Manami remembers all the times Bokuto told her that he wanted a wedding just as perfect as his parent’s was.

But Bokuto’s eyes don’t have any luster in them; matter of fact they look rather sunken in and puffy, like he’s been crying up until now. She smiles back at him weakly and nods, then gets to her feet and begins to search for her wedding video.

“You two looked so happy in that video,” Bokuto continues. “It’s my favorite video, it’s like I was there, you know?”

Manami giggles. “You didn’t come around for another year,” she says and takes the tape to put in the player.

“I want a marriage like you and Dad. I wanna love someone like he loved you and get loved back just as much,” Bokuto says groggily and she gets to her feet and presses play. The screen cuts to black, then goes to footage of Bokuto’s uncle working the camera and teasing Kuroo’s mother, very pregnant and ready to have him just a few days after the wedding.

Manami walks back to Bokuto and bends down to kiss his forehead. “I promise you, you will. Let me go get you a blanket,” she says. Bokuto doesn’t say anything, watching the video with a mixture of wonder and hopelessness.

Manami leaves the living room and heads down the hall towards the closet to grab some blankets and a pillow. She passes by her bedroom and pauses at the doorway, looking in at the pictures she has on her nightstand and the one of her husband smiling with Bokuto on his shoulders and pulling on his hair.

“Oh Jin. . .please watch after our son.”

* * *

 

**Kuroo 8:06 pm**

**\- Hey**

**Kuroo 8:07 pm**

**\- How’re u doin?**

**Kuroo 8:09 pm**

**\- Just checking on u**

**Kuroo 8:14 pm**

**\- U know, since konoha said ur basically living at the bar**

**Kuroo 8:30 pm**

**\- Do I need to send yukie down there to kick ur ass out of there?**

**Kuroo 8:50 pm**

**\- Jfc bokuto**

**Kuroo 9:17 pm**

**\- Are u even going to be sober for MY wedding?**

**Kuroo 9:30 pm**

**\- Ur my best man come on**

**Kuroo 9:50 pm**

**\- Just txt me back when u can ok?**

**Kuroo 9:52 pm**

**\- I miss my best friend**

* * *

 

“Bokuto-san isn’t here today?” Akaashi asks Sarukui and Sarukui gives a solemn shake of his head. He hands Akaashi his pay from Tsukishima’s father, then pencils in the next appointment date for Sunday.

“He’s been making other appointments with them so they don’t fall behind, but they’re random and really inconvenient for their parents. He’s a real mess right now,” Sarukui says with a sigh and Akaashi holds the strap of his messenger bag tight.

“I’ve known the guy since middle school and he’s been wanting to get married for a _long_ time. He has bad mood swings every once in a while, but I’ve never seen him depressed like this,” Sarukui mutters.

Akaashi bites his lower lip. “Isn’t there something we can do? It’s been three weeks since the wedding-”

“The best thing to do is to just be patient with him. He pushes people away cause he doesn’t want to be a bother and likes to work it out on his own,” Sarukui says. Akaashi nods and reaches into his bag, pulling out a small little box filled with bottles of oil and bath salts.

“Um, if you ever see him, could you give this to him? It’s supposed to be very relaxing and maybe it’ll make him perk up more, I don’t know,” Akaashi mumbles. Sarukui quirks an eyebrow, leaning forward with his smile kind yet sly.

“A present? Are you trying to make a move on our Bokuto?”

“Wha – I – no, no that’s not it,” Akaashi stammers and huffs. “I’m engaged,” Akaashi states and shows the ring on his finger. It feels rather weird, he’s never shown it off before. The moment Sarukui gets a glimpse of it, Akaashi reels his hand back to his side and awkwardly shuffles his feet.

“Besides, my mother stocked my medicine cabinet with that stuff. I just figured someone else would have better use for it than me,” Akaashi says and Sarukui nods his head. He reaches out to take it, but then his hands pause halfway.

“Actually, maybe _you_ should be the one to give it to him. He might appreciate it more if he knew it came from you,” Sarukui says. Akaashi blinks, then he pushes the box forward anyways. Sarukui pushes it back. “I can give you his address-”

“He hasn’t texted me back. I don’t want to bother him-”

“I won’t be leaving until later. If you can get to him before he decides to drag himself out of his home just to go stew in a seedy bar, I’ll be forever grateful,” Sarukui says. His eyes soften and he grabs a pen and rips a paper from his notepad, beginning to write down Bokuto’s address and also the directions to get there from Fukurodani in cursive.

“It won’t be weird if I show up? I mean, I don’t know him that well. What if he thinks that I don’t understand what he’s going through and-”

“Do you want to help him, Akaashi-san? Are you concerned about him?”

“Yes, of course.”

Sarukui hands Akaashi the notepad paper. “Then it won’t be weird.”

* * *

 

Bokuto usually keeps his home in better condition. Though his bedroom may be a mess of his clothes strewn all over the floor and his dirty laundry basket overflowing, or there might be a mountain of dishes that needed to be washed, Bokuto generally considers himself to not be a slob.

But after the incident with Aki, Bokuto doesn’t really care whether or not some of the food in his refrigerator has spoiled or that he has Polaroid pictures of him and Aki all over the floor of his living room. His blinds are drawn shut and his apartment is dark and dreary like his soul; Bokuto doesn’t care about the condition of his apartment and he just wants to wallow in his misery until he dies.

At around five (Bokuto thinks it’s five, he’s lost track of time to be honest), there’s a gentle knocking at his front door. Bokuto gets up from the couch he was sleeping on and pulls his bathrobe closed, tying the red fuzzy belt around his waist. His foot kicks some empty cans of beer out of the way and he steps on some Polaroid pictures of Aki smiling and laughing and posing for Bokuto’s camera, dragging his feet in a slow moving gait.

Bokuto opens his door and Akaashi is the one standing before him, looking quite embarrassed. It’s reasonable; Bokuto’s hair is completely flat and he’s only in a bathrobe, a muscle shirt and his boxer shorts. He looks like absolute _crap_ ; Bokuto’s sure that his eyes look red and puffy from getting upset over the Polaroids.

Akaashi looks down and holds a box gingerly in his hands. There’s also a bag hanging on his arm, the smell of take-out wafting into Bokuto’s nose and making him rather hungry.

“Um, I’m really sorry to be disturbing you, Bokuto-san. But I just wanted to check on you since you weren’t in today or last week and Sarukui-san gave me your address and-”

“No, no it’s alright,” Bokuto stops Akaashi from apologizing and steps aside for Akaashi to enter. After he closes the door, he wishes that he actually hadn’t done that, since now Akaashi is looking around at Bokuto’s mess of an apartment and he probably thinks Bokuto is more unstable than he really is. Bokuto winces in embarrassment as Akaashi takes off his shoes and steps over a crushed beer can.

“I haven’t cleaned up-”

“I’m the one dropping in unannounced. It’s alright. I just wanted to drop off something and also some food for you,” Akaashi explains, placing the bag onto Bokuto’s small dining table covered in sheet music and mail. He looks behind at Bokuto. “I bought some yakiniku. Sarukui-san said that was your favorite.”

“You bought me food?” Bokuto asks, rather confused. Akaashi tucks a black curl behind his ear and bites his lower lip.

“Well. . .I wasn’t sure if you were really eating. The last time I saw you, you looked pale and your cheeks weren’t full like usual.”

“I guess a diet of booze isn’t good for your skin,” Bokuto jokes, but he’s the only one laughing. Bokuto rubs his neck and moves to stand by Akaashi as he pulls out a box and hands it to Bokuto. Bokuto opens it and the smell of yakiniku don hits him like a ton of bricks, smoky and sweet scents carrying into his nose and making his mouth water.

“Is this from the food cart by our job?”

“Yes. You like theirs?”

“I _love_ theirs,” Bokuto says with a big grin and takes the chopsticks Akaashi offers to dig in. “They get it nice and smoky but not too crispy, and the rice really soaks up the juices of the meat. It’s _so_ good, the food just melts in your mouth!” Bokuto gushes as he places what he considers ‘Pure Heaven’ onto his eagerly awaiting tongue. Akaashi smiles as Bokuto falls into the seat at the table.

“There’s also some vegetables and udon in there. Sarukui-san said you’re a big eater,” Akaashi explains and Bokuto places his food down, cheeks filled.

“You didn’t have to buy me all of this,” he says in between muffled chews.

“I didn’t. Sarukui-san offered some money,” Akaashi says and then places the other box he is holding onto the table. “And this is some oils and bath salts from me. They’re supposed to be really relaxing and I thought maybe you’d like them. I mean, you don’t have to use them if you don’t want to-”

“You got that for me too?” Bokuto asks and Akaashi nods his head. Bokuto stares at Akaashi, the piano instructor’s face watching him closely with kind and worried eyes. His cheeks and the tip of his nose has a pretty pink hue to it and he’s wringing the bottom of his sweater between his long fingers. Bokuto smiles and the corners of his eyes crinkle, but his eyes are dull.

“Akaashi, your husband is so lucky to have you. You’re going to make him so happy,” Bokuto says with a sad tone.

“He’s not my husband yet, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi says and sits down in the other empty chair at Bokuto’s table, partially wondering if this used to be the chair Aki sat in. “Bokuto-san, you’re going to make someone happy too.”

“I know you’re trying to make me feel better, Akaashi, but I don’t have anything to offer. I’m a loser. I’m going to be doomed to forever wander the Earth alone and unloved like. . .Frankenstein. Or. . .the crazy cat lady three doors down from me. Well, actually she’s loved by her cats. Maybe I should become the crazy owl man so owls will love me,” Bokuto says and Akaashi stifles a laugh.

“Bokuto-san, _everyone_ has their ‘person’. Maybe. . .maybe Aki wasn’t yours.”

“But I thought he was. And I feel like shit that he isn’t. Like. . .like I did something _wrong_ somewhere,” Bokuto says and places his head into his hands. “I just don’t understand why he did this, I feel like such an asshole. A _stupid_ asshole.”

“You’re not-”

“But you don’t know me, Akaashi,” Bokuto says strongly. “I’m-I’m _crap_. Aki fell out of love with me because I’m a loser and you’re just being nice so you don’t see it yet. . .I bet if Aki had someone like you, he’d marry them.”

Akaashi’s eyes are so gentle and kind that it makes Bokuto avert his gaze, focusing on the steaming food in front of him and its delicious smell.

“Bokuto-san, no one is perfect. If I’m such great marriage material, then why am I not getting married?” Akaashi asks. Bokuto bites the inside of his cheek and then sticks another piece of meat in his mouth. “Maybe we’ll both be lonely together,” Akaashi suggests and Bokuto smiles.

“He’d be stupid to not marry you.”

“And Aki was stupid to not marry _you_.”

Bokuto smiles in spite of himself and watches Akaashi get to his feet. “I won’t trouble you for long, I want you to enjoy your dinner. Do you think you’ll be coming in next Sunday?”

“. . .Yeah. . .Yeah, I’ll be there,” Bokuto says quietly and gets to his feet as well to walk Akaashi back to his front door. Akaashi slips on his shoes and turns to look at Bokuto over his shoulder.

“If you ever want to talk about anything, owls or where the best place to eat is, my door is always open too,” Akaashi says. Bokuto nods his head; his cheeks feel warm and his hands are trembling for some reason.

“Yeah. . .thanks, Akaashi. I really appreciate this,” Bokuto murmurs. Akaashi smiles and opens the door, letting himself out and walks down the hallway to the stairs. Bokuto watches him go, then gently closes the door shut and flicks on a light so it’s not as dark inside. The light blinds him for a few seconds, but his vision clears and he goes back to the dining table.

Bokuto takes the box of oils and bath salts and opens it. All of the bottles are a pretty sapphire color with gold writing on the side detailing the type of oil and what effects is it supposed to have. He picks up a bottle with ‘ _Allspice Berry_ ’ in pretty gold letters on the side and turns it between his fingers, then takes a napkin from the bag of takeout to put a few drops on it. He closes his eyes and brings it to his nose to take just a small whiff.

It smells like a blend of cinnamon, citrus, cardamom and other spices that Bokuto can’t place just yet. It makes Bokuto’s legs feel like jelly, but he does feel warmth rising in his chest. He puts the bottle down and then takes another bottle labeled ‘ _Cassia_ ’, putting a few drops of it on another napkin to sniff.

It’s strong and it’s sweet, sweeter than cinnamon. For some reason, Bokuto thinks of Akaashi. He doesn’t know if Akaashi really smells like this since he never got close enough to smell him (or want to come off as creepy if he did) but now all he sees behind his closed eyelids is Akaashi and his smile and his dark green eyes that fill his cheeks and his chest with warmth.

Bokuto places the napkin and bottle down and rubs his face, looking over at the sink and the pile of dirty dishes begging to be cleaned. He wipes his hands on his bathrobe and closes up the box and his takeout food, then crosses to the sink and turns on the faucet to begin, Cassia’s scent lingering in his nose and Akaashi still on his mind.

* * *

 

No matter how hard Akaashi tries, he can’t seem to get the top shelf in his kitchenette to remain sturdy. It tilts to the left if there’s too much weight on one side and he can’t get it balanced. He should probably bring it up with his landlord, but he doesn’t want to disturb the elderly man if it’s a simple problem he could fix.

So right now, Akaashi stands on one of the expensive kitchen chairs his mother bought without him asking for it, and tries to balance the shelf by moving around the items on it. So far, putting all cans on the shelf just makes it look like it’s about to snap in half, but all boxes just makes the shelf shift left and right. It’s like a frustrating puzzle trying to get this thing balanced, but he’s sure that if he just keeps at it, it’ll come to him.

As Akaashi gently edges over some jelly to squeeze in a box of crackers, two hands casually slip onto his waist. Akaashi freezes and the hand around the jar of jelly tightens. He raises it to smash up against the head of _whoever_ it is that’s holding him, but the person moves their hand and grabs Akaashi’s wrist just before he swings it at their head.

Souichi laughs playfully. “Assaulting your fiancé with a jar of jelly, that’s new,” he says and Akaashi places a hand to his chest to calm his beating heart. Souichi helps him down from the chair and Akaashi places the jar on the counter, right next to a bouquet of flowers that wasn’t there before.

“How did you get in here?” Akaashi questions and Souichi taps his cheek. Akaashi stares at him a few seconds, before he understands what the brunet is getting at and leans up to kiss his cheek. Souichi smiles and then leans back against the counter.

“Your mother cornered your landlord and asked for spare keys, then hunted me down at my office to give me one. I _think_ she’s trying to speed up something,” Souichi says and Akaashi groans, putting his face into his hands.

“I’m _so_ sorry, she can be such a handful-”

“It’s alright,” Souichi says with a laugh and takes the flowers to hand to Akaashi. “These are for you,” he says and Akaashi takes them with a murmured ‘thanks’. The bouquet is composed of red roses and white lilies with sprigs of lavender and yellow daffodils.

Akaashi casually glances at Souichi’s fingers, spotting the engagement band on his ring finger. Akaashi feels partially guilty that he’s only just started to wear his own a couple of weeks ago; Souichi probably never took his off.

Akaashi takes the flowers to place in an empty vase his mother planned on filling with flowers and grabs a cup to pour some water. Souichi looks around, green eyes rather humored by the humble abode filled with lavish furniture.

“She really spruced this place up, huh?” Souichi asks and Akaashi shrugs. “Where are we going to put this stuff when you move in with me?”

“I said I’ll move in with you when you marry me.” Akaashi doesn’t mean to say that in a biting tone, but it still comes out rather petty and he feels his cheeks heat in embarrassment. He doesn’t turn to look at Souichi, but he feels arms around him and Souichi tuck his chin into the crook of Akaashi’s neck.

“Then let’s get married,” he says in a lilted tone and Akaashi turns to look at him. Souichi is smiling at him like he just said a funny joke and is waiting for Akaashi to get the punchline. Akaashi just stares at him, still and breathless until only a confused sound is able to escape from his slightly parted lips.

Souichi reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out an envelope. “For you also,” he says and Akaashi takes it while Souichi still has an arm around him. He opens the envelope and sees that it’s a confirmation letter for two tickets to Okinawa in three months. There’s also a house key inside, though it’s not a copy of his own.

“. . .Oikinawa? Another business trip?” Akaashi questions and Souichi begins to hum. A few seconds in, Akaashi realizes it’s the wedding march his fiancé is humming and his eyes pop. He throws his arms around Souichi’s shoulders and Souichi stumbles backwards into the counter, laughing.

“I knew you wanted to set a date so, I talked with a travel agent and we’re going to be married in Okinawa,” Souichi explains. Akaashi is smiling and his heart beats excitedly against his chest.

“It sounds _amazing_. . .but. . .”

“But what?”

Akaashi moves his hands down to rub Souichi’s arms. “Well, Okinawa is pretty far. I don’t know if everyone could fly out there-”

“But it’s beautiful out there. Plus, I don’t want a big wedding. You know, random friends that are only there for the buffet and drinks. I want it to just be us on the beach, together. It’s an intimate occasion, don’t you think?” Souichi asks and Akaashi turns his gaze down to the floor.

Well, he knows his mother will fight Souichi on herself coming to the wedding since she _has_ to see every important step in Akaashi’s life come out perfectly, so Akaashi isn’t worried about his parents being excluded. He wants Koushi and Oikawa to come though. Maybe even the teachers that he’s starting to get along with rather nicely at Fukurodani. It’ll be such an inconvenience for them to have to buy their own ticket to fly to _his_ wedding. But it’s not like he can ask Souichi to pay for all of his friends to go when he’s already planning on them marrying in _Okinawa_.

Akaashi looks back at Souichi’s face and smiles. “It’s. . .it’s fine. Okinawa it is.”

Souichi cups Akaashi’s face and kisses him once, simple and quick. He pulls back and looks over Akaashi’s expression. “You’re not happy about it,” Souichi says and Akaashi blinks.

“No, no it’s alright-”

“No. You’re pouting on the inside, aren’t you?”

Akaashi huffs and Souichi smiles, rubbing his thumb over Akaashi’s cheek bone in slow little circles. “. . .Alright, we’ll get married here,” Souichi says with a sigh.

Akaashi’s eyes brighten and he hugs Souichi again, firm and tight. “Thank you, thank you, _thank you_ -”

“I know, I know. Hey, you wanna go out to eat?”

Akaashi nods his head and juts a thumb down the hallway. “Let me just get my jacket,” Akaashi says, then kisses Souichi firm on the mouth. Akaashi turns on his heels and dashes out of his kitchenette area to his bedroom, going into his closet to quickly grab a coat. Akaashi then crosses over to his nightstand to grab his phone that’s charging in the wall. The moment he unplugs it, a text pops up onto his screen.

**Bokuto - 17:40**

**Hey these oil things are really nice!!**

**Bokuto - 17:42**

**I’m starting to feel like a million bucks!**

Akaashi smiles warmly at Bokuto’s text.

**Akaashi Keiji - 17:44**

**I’m glad that you’re enjoying it :)**

**> >You were right about my fiancé **

Akaashi pauses mid-sentence, staring down at the message he is about to send. He can’t tell Bokuto that he’s going to be married. Not when Bokuto is now slowly working himself out of this funk. What if this just makes him depressed that Akaashi isn’t forever alone like he is and they won’t be able to connect on that level anymore? But, Akaashi _would_ want Bokuto to come to his wedding, especially since he invited Akaashi to his (even if it didn’t turn out well). 

He stares and stares at the screen, until he hears Souichi call out if he needs help finding his jacket. Akaashi jumps and fumbles with his phone, quickly slipping it into his pocket and slips on his coat. He rushes out of his bedroom and into the living room where Souichi waits.

“Are you ready?” Souichi asks and Akaashi rubs the ring on his finger, a strange mixture of happiness and guilt welling up in his chest and muddling his mind.

“Yeah. . .yeah, let’s go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wish that there were assholes in haikyuu already to use instead of oc's. not the 'oh, he's an asshole but precious and dorky and my precious son' i mean the 'jfc this guy is an ASSSHOOLLLEEE'.


	3. remember to forget

Kuroo considers himself to be Bokuto’s best friend, his brother from another mother, destined to be best friends the moment they were born (even though he was literally born a few days after Bokuto’s parents were wed).

So he feels it is his obligation to check on the man that is supposed to be his _best man_ at his wedding tomorrow, and is patiently waiting outside of Bokuto’s apartment with a bag of takeout from the ramen restaurant near his and Kenma’s place. The locks click off and the door opens just a smidge, Bokuto’s golden honey eye peering through the crack.

“Hey,” Bokuto greets and Kuroo raises a hand.

“Yo.”

Bokuto opens the door and Kuroo steps inside, handing the food to Bokuto so he could take off his boots. Kuroo raises his head and glances around Bokuto’s apartment, noting that the place is cleaner than usual. The table is cleared of junk mail and the sheet music is in a neat stack directly in front of one chair. All of the trash is taken out and the sink is empty. There’s also some classic rock from the 70s playing in the background that mixes in with a news broadcast on Bokuto’s TV in the living room.

The blinds are letting in the afternoon sunlight and Kuroo almost feels like he’s in a different home entirely.

“You really straightened this place up,” Kuroo comments and Bokuto gives a sheepish grin.

“Well, I have time on my hands,” Bokuto says and walks into the living room to flop on his couch. Kuroo follows him and sits down next to him, wrinkling his nose when a sweet smell slowly filters into his nose. He turns to the blanket that’s jammed into the corner of Bokuto’s couch and picks the fabric up between his fingers, bringing it to his nose to inhale.

The smell makes Kuroo feel all warm inside, like inhaling the herbal tea Kenma makes him when he’s sick and both of them snuggle up on the couch afterwards. Kuroo looks up at Bokuto, pinching and rubbing the blanket between his thumb and pointer finger.

“This blanket smells pretty good. What kind of soap you use?”

“It’s actually clary sage oil. A coworker said I could mix some oils in with my laundry so it’ll smell nice. It’s really relaxing and it calms me,” Bokuto comments and Kuroo hums. Bokuto grins and leans back into the lumpy cushions of his couch. “Bro, don’t tell me you came over here just to smell my blanket.”

“I didn’t,” Kuroo says defensively, but he takes one more inhale and thinks of his fiancé before he places it down in his lap. “I wanted to check in on you. . .see if you were still up for tomorrow.”

“Bro, of _course_ I’m going to be there for you and Kenma. Why would you think I wouldn’t?” Bokuto asks, rather hurt and Kuroo scratches the back of his neck.

“I don’t know, man. I just got worried cause this will be your first wedding back after. . . _you know_. I just didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable,” Kuroo says and Bokuto nods his head, turning back to the television. There’s a commercial on for some cereal with kids loudly slurping up the milk in content, Bokuto keeping his eyes on the screen as a small smile comes to his lips.

“Thanks for caring, bro. But. . .I think I’ll be okay. You know, this is your important day and I don’t want to be the one to screw it up because I’m all depressed about Aki and _my_ wedding. I’m feeling better now, honest.”

“You look better, that’s for sure,” Kuroo comments and raises the blanket. “Does this mystery coworker have anything to do with it?” Kuroo asks and Bokuto bites his lower lip, then shrugs.

“Akaashi has been really concerned. I don’t want him to worry about me, the guy has enough problems being new to town and new to Fukurodani,” Bokuto says and Kuroo quirks an interested eyebrow.

“This ‘Akaashi’. . .is he single?”

“Bro, you’re not thinking about cheating on Kenma one day before your wedding are you?”

“Wha – _no_. I’m asking for _you_ , ya big lug,” Kuroo scoffs and Bokuto laughs.

“He’s engaged. But I guess he’s having marriage problems of his own. His fiancé proposes to him and he doesn’t even set a date for _two years_. I mean, what’s up with that? He _must_ be planning big, so that’s what I told Akaashi.”

“Or he has commitment issues,” Kuroo comments nonchalantly and Bokuto squawks.

“Why are you always such a pessimist about love?!” Bokuto cries out and Kuroo laughs, giving a playful punch to Bokuto’s shoulder.

“I’m not a pessimist about it, I’m just a realist! Come on, your idea of me asking Kenma out on a date was to ‘serenade him my feelings’. Not only did we _both_ find it hella embarrassing, he wouldn’t even look me in the eye for a week afterwards,” Kuroo says and Bokuto pouts.

“Well he _did_ talk to you eventually _and_ you went on a date. So it was still a success,” Bokuto says offhandedly and Kuroo laughs.

“Point is, bro, you always look at stuff like this with rose-tinted glasses. You know, romance isn’t like the movies. People fall out of love and not everything goes as smoothly as they make it look. The moment you realize that is the moment that you find a nice person you have realistic expectations of to settle down with,” Kuroo explains.

Bokuto hums and they both are quiet, eyes on the television screen but neither are really watching it.

“. . .I think it can still happen though,” Bokuto murmurs. “I think that there’s someone out there who’s just as much of a romantic as me and sees love the way I do.”

Kuroo looks at Bokuto, but leans back and smiles to himself.

“And when you do, I’ll support you all the way.”

* * *

 

When Manami and Bokuto went to Kuroo and Kenma’s wedding and Bokuto began his duties as the best man by making sure everyone was in their proper places and all the guests were in their seats, he was fine.

When Bokuto watched as Kuroo and Kenma shared their first kiss as newlyweds and everyone cheered and clapped and bawled their eyes out (he did all three), he was fine.

But now as he sits at the bar counter by himself, watching Kuroo and Kenma talk with guests together, Yukie and Kai sitting together at their table feeding each other, and every other couple in the banquet hall of the hotel the reception is being held at filled with joy and love and happiness, that is when Bokuto figures out he’s not fine.

It’s a very conflicting feeling and it makes Bokuto feel like there’s a bad taste in his mouth. He wants to feel happy for Kuroo and Kenma. He wants to feel happy for Yukie and Kai. He wants to feel happy like he used to feel when he saw people in love with each other. But now the only thing he feels boiling behind his eyes is frustration.

Why isn’t _he_ like that now? Why is it that _he_ got shafted but his friends got their perfect wedding and get to spend their lives with someone that _actually_ loves them? He doesn’t want to feel this way, but the more shot glasses he tosses back, the more bitterness he feels stewing in his bones. How could Bokuto be wrong about his own relationship but get Yukie’s and Kuroo’s right? What if he’s wrong about them too? What if Kuroo gets tired of Kenma and they break up or vice versa? What about Yukie and Kai?

He rubs his face and taps his hand against the glass of the bar, alerting the bartender. But a hand rests on his and he looks up, finding that Kuroo is standing beside him and looking down at him with stern yet worried eyes.

“How many shots did you take?” Kuroo asks and Bokuto blinks, pulling his hand free from Kuroo’s.

“Like. . .two. One for you and Kenma,” Bokuto says.

Kuroo looks at the bartender, who mouths ‘eight’.

Kuroo curses under his breath and runs a hand through his hair. It looks straighter, like Kuroo actually put the effort to get his hair as neat as possible. It warms Bokuto’s heart that Kuroo loves Kenma so much to do that, but it makes him angry too.

“Bokuto, I thought you said you were going to be okay-”

“I _am_ okay,” Bokuto spits and gets to his feet, but holds onto the bar to keep himself balanced. Kuroo holds out his hand to keep Bokuto from walking away from him.

“ _No_ , you’re not. I’m not going to let you get up on the stage like this-”

“I said I was alright! Why are you attacking me like this?! I’m happy for you two!” Bokuto blurts out. A few people at the bar turn to look at him, but Bokuto doesn’t even realize how loud he’s starting to get over the sound of his heart beating loudly and drumming in his ears.

“I never said you _weren’t_ happy and I’m not attacking you.”

“So let me say what I want to say and I’ll let you and Kenma have your wedding full of _love_ and _happiness_ -”

“Come on, let’s get some fresh air,” Kuroo starts as he grabs Bokuto’s bicep to pull him towards the doors leading out back. Bokuto yanks his arm away and falls backwards against the bar stool, knocking it over onto the ground. More eyes turn in their direction and Kuroo’s eyes are starting to look less calm and more frustrated.

“I can have a couple of drinks, can’t I?! Stop treating me like I’m an embarrassment,” Bokuto grumbles and rubs his face. “I’m an embarrassment. I’m such a _joke_. No one will ever want to be with someone like me-”

“Kai, help me with him,” Kuroo says to Kai approaching and he nods his head. Both men grab Bokuto by his arms and start to drag him out past the curious eyes of the wedding guests. Bokuto’s face feels warm and flushed, his eyes turned towards the banquet hall’s wooden floor.

A guest, possibly a relative, murmurs as they pass by their table, “Jeesh, this kid has a crappy wedding and now he has to spoil Tetsurou’s.”

A horrific feeling of satisfaction and anger and sadness wells in Bokuto’s chest and strangles his throat. He doesn’t want to be happy that he’s ruining Kuroo’s wedding. He doesn’t want to be angry that Kuroo and Kenma are happily married. There’s too many conflicting feelings swimming around in Bokuto’s head that makes him feel like he’s drowning in air. He wants to go home, he wants to protest to stay. Bokuto doesn’t know anything anymore.

Kai and Kuroo open the door and lead him to the steps where deliveries for the kitchen are made, gently setting him down and Kuroo sits with him rubbing his back.

“You need me to get him some water or something?” Kai asks and Bokuto buries his face in his hands. Kai is so nice, Bokuto _knows_ he’ll treat Yukie right and give her everything she wants. Why can’t he have someone like that? Why can’t he show Aki he’ll give him _anything_ he asked for?

“Yeah, maybe a bottle water or something. Tell Kenma I’ll be back inside in just a bit,” Kuroo says. Kai nods his head, then gives a comforting pat to Bokuto’s shoulder before he turns and walks back to the wedding reception.

“I’m such a shit friend,” Bokuto mutters and Kuroo pats his back. “I’m so sorry, Kuroo.”

“It’s alright. Things are going to be a little bit bumpy for you, that’s all,” Kuroo says, loosening his black tie just a bit. Bokuto shakes his head and slumps against the wall behind them. “. . .Do you want to go home?”

“No. I don’t know. I’m really confused. I just. . .when I look at you and Kenma or Kai and Yukie and I see you all so happy together. . .it just makes me angry. I get upset and I don’t know why I feel like this when you’re all my friends and I’m _supposed_ to be happy. Like. . .like I want someone else to be miserable like me. So I _am_ a shit friend,” Bokuto slurs.

Kuroo runs a hand through his hair, temporarily musing it up as he thinks. Bokuto slowly gets to his feet and Kuroo helps him up. “I think. . .I think I should go. I don’t want to go back in there and make a scene. Just tell my mom I’ll take the bus or train back to my place,” Bokuto murmurs.

“You need me or Kai to-”

“ _No_ , just let me go by myself,” Bokuto cuts Kuroo off and moves away from him. He holds his head and takes a few steps forward that are crooked and awkward. He sucks in a deep breath and sticks his hands into the pockets of his slacks, walking away from Kuroo’s worried gaze in search for the nearest bus stop.

* * *

 

“I don’t know. We’re planning an engagement party in two weeks but we haven’t even begun planning for the actual wedding,” Akaashi says into his cell phone tucked between his shoulder and his ear. In his hands are some candles in glass bowls that can be used as a centerpiece for the dining tables at the reception. There’s sand at the bottom of one and glass beads at the bottom of the other. Both of them look rather pretty, but Akaashi isn’t sure the price tag on them fits.

“ _What about your mom?_ ” Koushi asks and Akaashi scoffs. In the background, he hears Daichi feeding Chikara and making little airplane noises to Chikara’s happy coos.

“I can’t ask her for her help, she’ll want to take over _everything_. Matter of fact, I haven’t even told her that we’ve set the date yet,” Akaashi says and places the candles down, moving over to some floral centerpieces. They are beautiful and vibrant, and they smell heavenly. Some of them are huge and blossom from all angles with tiger lilies and gardenias sticking out prominently. This might be nice, he just wishes he had a second opinion.

Souichi is at work, he can’t bother him now. He could try to send some pictures to Koushi, but a picture is nothing compared to seeing them in person like this. Akaashi looks at the price tag for an arrangement of peonies and roses in pink and orange and huffs. Not in his price range at _all_. They’re so pretty too. . .maybe he should just see if he could haggle with the prices a bit-

Akaashi pauses when he sees a familiar person walk past the window display of dahlias and ranunculus bulbs, or moreso staggers past. “Suga-san, I got to go,” Akaashi says quickly and hangs up before Koushi could even make another word. Akaashi briskly walks out of the flower shop and watches as Bokuto pauses in the middle of the sidewalk, looking around with a befuddled expression.

“Bokuto-san?” Akaashi calls out and Bokuto turns. His dress shirt is untucked and his black tie is considerably loose.

“Hey Akaashi,” Bokuto says and walks over to him with a more controlled step like he’s putting in all of his focus to walk properly now that Akaashi is here. As Bokuto draws closer, Akaashi can smell a faint scent of whiskey lingering on his person. He frowns as Bokuto gives a sheepish rub of his head. “You know how far it is from Fukurodani from here? I think I’m kinda lost.”

“Where did you come from?”

“Ah, friend’s wedding. The best man at my wedding got married today. I was _his_ best man.”

“Shouldn’t you still be there? The best man is pretty important,” Akaashi says and Bokuto nods his head, eyes to the ground.

“Yeah. . .I-I kinda screwed up, so I left. Um, I’ll just leave you alone-” Akaashi reaches out and grabs Bokuto’s wrist before the man could turn heel and run, holding him in his place.

“Do you want to sit down for a moment and maybe catch your thoughts? Because you’re a _long_ way from Fukurodani. Unless you plan on taking the train?” Akaashi asks.

“. . .I left my wallet with my other clothes at the wedding.”

“. . .Ok then. Come on, I know someplace quiet that’s not too far of a walk,” Akaashi says and begins to pull Bokuto down the sidewalk heading south. Bokuto stumbles to get in step with Akaashi’s strides, looking at the dark haired man with puzzled eyes.

“I’m not interrupting you or anything?”

“No, not at all,” Akaashi says and looks at Bokuto. “Do you have anywhere else to be?”

Bokuto sadly frowns. “No. I don’t.”

Akaashi’s thumb gently rubs against the exposed skin of Bokuto’s wrist. “Then it’ll be okay if we kill a few hours together.”

* * *

 

It’s a few blocks away from the floral shop, but the two reach the small café very quickly. There’s a window painting of a baby crow sitting on the edge of a cup of steaming coffee and a sign welcoming people in with bold gold letters. Akaashi opens the door and allows Bokuto to enter first, the smell of coffee and tea cakes hitting Bokuto square in the face the moment he steps foot inside.

It’s small and cozy with a warming aura about it, like Bokuto stepped foot into a place he can call a home away from home. There’s few people inside, so it’s not loud but still makes it feel very lively. In the corner of the café is a small stage with an upright piano, a drum set, and a microphone.

A board near the door announces proudly ‘ _Sit where you like!!_ ’ in blue and yellow chalk.Akaashi points over at a bench with a wide window giving a view of the busy street outside.

“You wanna sit there?” Akaashi asks and Bokuto nods his head, following Akaashi to the table to sit down.

“Want any coffee?” Akaashi asks and Bokuto rubs his cheek.

“I’m not much of a coffee drinker actually,” Bokuto murmurs, eyes turned towards a girl walking over to them with menus in her hands and a big smile on her face. She places the menus down in front of them and places hands on her hips, grinning towards Akaashi.

“Hey, you brought a friend this time! He’s dressed pretty sharp for a café, is this a ‘special occasion’?” she asks. Bokuto knows she said ‘special occasion’, but her tone makes it sound like she’s actually asking if they’re on a _date_. He blushes and shakes his hands and his head wildly.

“H-He’s engaged!” Bokuto stammers. The girl laughs and gives a playful punch to Bokuto’s shoulder.

“Just joking!” she says and readies her notepad, taking the pencil from behind her ear. “So what’ll you have to drink? You need some more time to look over the menu?”

“I’ll have my usual,” Akaashi says and she nods, jotting down the order. Bokuto opens the menu and chews on his lower lip, glancing at the rather large list of coffee orders and teas that he has no idea how to pronounce.

“Uh. . .maybe the watermelon fizzle?”

“Sure! Coming right up!” she says and jots it down, then juts a thumb at her name badge. “I’m Michimiya, so just give me a call if you want anything else!” she says and walks to go to the back and into the kitchen. Bokuto leans back in the bench and raises an eyebrow at Akaashi.

“How many times have you come here to have a ‘usual’?”

“Usually I drop by here every morning before my lessons and maybe a couple more during the week,” Akaashi says and leans in close like he’s about to tell a deep, dark secret. “Their coffee is good, it relaxes me.”

“How do you drink it? Maybe I’ll try a cup.”

“Bitter, like me.”

Bokuto spits and laughs and Akaashi smiles. “I like it with a lot of milk and whipped cream,” Akaashi then says and Bokuto nods his head.

“Yeah, that sounds more appetizing. . .hey, I’ll pay you back-”

“Don’t worry about it. You treated me to drinks before, so consider this me paying _you_ back,” Akaashi says and smiles. Bokuto smiles back and rubs his face, glancing out the window at cars driving past and people out and about. He sighs through his nose and drums his fingers on the surface of the wooden table.

“Akaashi. . .I really screwed up today,” Bokuto mumbles.

“Why do you think that?”

“Because. . .I really thought that I was over Aki and I was fine, but I just ended up screwing up at my friend’s wedding. I was. . .I was _angry_. I was mad that he’s happy and everyone else just was happy and I feel like shit because I didn’t want to feel so bitter and want everyone else to feel that way too,” Bokuto says.

He doesn’t know why he’s starting to ramble about his problems, but he can’t find it in him to stop. It feels. . . _good_ to vent, like he’s slowly peeling off every disgusting layer of anger and frustration that’s been weighing him down for weeks. His hands are tense and Akaashi’s eyes watch him closely as Bokuto tries to get his breathing under control.

“I really wanted to be there for Kuroo and I let my feelings get in the way. . .I don’t know when this is going to end, I just want to stop _feeling like this_ ,” Bokuto shudders out and Akaashi reaches out, pauses, and then gently rests his hand over Bokuto’s still clenched fist. Akaashi’s hand is warm and his skin is soft. His thumb moves in gentle circles over the back of his hand like Yukie’s did when she gave Bokuto the bad news.

“It’s okay. It’s your first time going to a wedding after what happened, so you’re going to feel shaky. And you’ve been with Aki for a long time, so it might be a while for you to bounce back and embrace the single life again,” Akaashi explains. Bokuto just watches Akaashi’s thumb move slowly over his skin, pale and small.

His eyes then wander over to Akaashi’s ring finger and that beautiful engagement ring shining underneath the lamp above them.

“How are things with you and your fiancé?” Bokuto asks suddenly. Akaashi’s hand tenses over Bokuto’s and Bokuto looks over at Akaashi as the piano instructor takes his hand to place back in his lap.

“Um. . .actually. . .” Akaashi smiles and the corners of his eyes crinkle, “he set the date. We’re getting married in three months.”

Bokuto stares and Akaashi bites his lower lip. Both watch each other and wait for the other person to speak first, but Michimiya comes back to their table with their drinks and also a slice of salted caramel cheesecake. She places the watermelon fizz in front of Bokuto and the cheesecake slice and coffee in front of Akaashi, wiping her hands and smiling to them both.

“Anything else I can get you?” she asks and they shake their heads ‘no’. She nods and leaves them to their drinks, Akaashi breaking eye contact from Bokuto to get his silverware.

A few seconds later, Bokuto is finally able to croak out a response.

“That’s. . .that’s great,” Bokuto says slowly, vigor starting to come into his voice. “Yeah, that’s great! I told you he was planning something big and that’s why he didn’t set the date earlier! What are you doing for your wedding?”

Bokuto is talking so excitedly that it startles Akaashi for a moment, his fork poised in his hand ready to cut a piece of cake.

“It’s. . .we’re – we’re getting married here. I mean, he originally planned Okinawa but I like it here. It’s close to friends and family, so we’re going to Okinawa for the honeymoon.”

“That’s where I wanted to take Aki for our honeymoon,” Bokuto comments, admiring the watermelon fizz’s pink hue and fizzy bubbles. He takes the watermelon wedge on the glass to nibble on while Akaashi looks like he wishes he didn’t bring that up.

But Bokuto continues without falter. “You’re excited, right?” he asks before he bites into the fruit fully.

“Yes. We still have a lot of planning to do and three months is going to go by so quickly, so I already started looking for some centerpieces and floral arrangements,” Akaashi explains. He pushes his plate of cake forward and offers another fork to Bokuto. “You want some?” Akaashi asks.

Bokuto takes the fork with a beaming smile and cuts himself a piece to eat. It’s sweet and it melts on his tongue, Bokuto _moans_ from its taste and his smile gets bigger and bigger. He looks to Akaashi who takes a bite himself and scratches the back of his neck. “If you’re looking for some floral arrangements and stuff, you should go to Ikejiri’s,” Bokuto says and takes a sip of his drink.

“Huh?”

“Yeah, he has a really nice selection and they’re all good prices. Just a recommendation, in case you’re interested,” Bokuto says sheepishly and Akaashi nods his head.

“Alright. . .thank you. I’ll look into it.” Akaashi brings his coffee to his lips to drink and sighs in content at the warmth pooling in his stomach. He brings the coffee down and Bokuto brings his hand up to stifle a laugh. Akaashi raises an eyebrow.

“What is it?” he asks and Bokuto raises a finger and leans forward, gently brushing the tip of it against the tip of Akaashi’s nose. He pulls it back, a small little dollop of whipped cream on the pad of his finger.

“Whipped cream,” he says and then licks his finger clean. Akaashi scrunches his nose and takes a napkin to wipe his nose.

“You could have just told me, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi chastises and Bokuto laughs, helping himself to some more of Akaashi’s cake.

“Sorry, sorry! You looked tasty enough to eat!” Bokuto chirps right before he stuffs another forkful of cake in his mouth. The tips of Akaashi’s ears turn pink and the tip of his nose where the whipped cream was is also a pinkish hue. He coughs and drinks from his coffee again, careful to not get whipped cream on him this time.

“Unfortunately, I’m off the menu. . .we’re having an engagement party in two weeks,” Akaashi brings up and Bokuto nods his head. Akaashi chews on his lower lip. “I would really like it if you came. Sarukui and Komi and Konoha too.”

Bokuto looks at him with his eyes wide. The brightness is gone and it’s replaced with worry and fear, shame and doubt. Bokuto shakes his head, his eyes fleeting downwards to not meet Akaashi’s.

“I. . .I don’t know. Maybe I should just. . .stay away from wedding stuff-”

“Please? I want you to meet my fiancé and see if we’re a compatible match like your friends are,” Akaashi says with a smile and Bokuto gives a hollow laugh.

“I’m not the expert,” Bokuto says and runs a hand through his hair. “I’ll. . .I’ll think about it.”

“There’s going to be food and drinks and music and I _promise_ you’ll have a good time, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi says. His eyes are glowing with happiness and Bokuto feels his chest warm. He’s never seen someone so happy to want him someplace. Bokuto feels _wanted_.

As Akaashi sips quietly from his coffee and Bokuto drinks from his glass, he decides that he’s going to pull through and out of this. He’s going to pull through for his kids. He’s going to pull through for his friends. He’s going to pull through for Akaashi.

* * *

 

_To my little Duckling,_

_Congratulations on the engagement! I knew he’d come around. I’ll still be in Corsica when your party comes unfortunately, but I promise I’ll drop by to spend time with you when I head back to Japan. It’s beautiful out here so I hope you enjoy those pictures I sent you and maybe you can convince Souichi to take you traveling._

_Best of wishes and all my love,_

_Papa_

_P.S. Make sure that battle axe doesn’t stick her big nose into your planning, she already had her turn._

“Dad says hi,” Akaashi calls to his mother currently sticking fine china that isn’t allowed for cheap dinners and will probably never be used, into his cupboards. He figures she already knew what he really said, since when she gave Akaashi the envelope, it was half open. If there is anything that annoys Ai the most, it’s probably Akaashi’s father.

The pictures are still in good condition and it looks breathtaking in France. Akaashi usually sticks all the pictures his father takes into a scrapbook, his own ‘dream vacation travel guide’. He’s had it since he was a little boy and each picture his father sends him just makes his skin itch in eagerness to see just what is out there.

Ai grunts and pouts her lips. “I can’t believe you told him before you told me,” she says scathingly and Akaashi hums, looking at a picture with ‘ _Calvi’s Bay_ ’ written on the back in his father’s dark, loopy handwriting.

“I wanted to know if he’ll come, that’s all.”

Ai begins to grumble something under her breath and Akaashi begins to tune her out. He’s had to get used to his mother’s comments about his father and his wanderlust since he was eight; honestly Akaashi doesn’t even know why his parents are still married when he feels they have so much contempt for each other, any moment they’re face-to-face is just filled with backhanded comments and forced smiles.

He flips to another picture with Corsica’s beach and crystal blue water, and pictures himself walking around basking in the sunlight.

* * *

 

**BOOM BOOOM TSK BOOM BA TSK BOOM**

“A little better, but you’re not connecting those last two,” Bokuto points out and Lev nods his head, though his lower lip is jutted out in a pout.

“Can’t we practice something else?”

“No. You wanted to learn this drum beat, so we’re going to learn it,” Bokuto says, lazily tapping his own drumstick against the side of his tom-tom. Lev huffs and spins around on his stool, long legs awkwardly bumping up against his drum setup when he rotates more into the corner of the studio to groan.

Bokuto hears Akaashi down the hall and his piano’s beautiful melody and thinks about the piano instructor’s own fiancé. Akaashi doesn’t talk about him much and Bokuto admits that he’s rather curious about what kind of man Akaashi is attracted to. Is his fiancé quiet like him and carries himself with grace and a posture that screams his intelligence like Bokuto feels Akaashi does? Does his fiancé play music? What if after they’re married, Akaashi’s fiancé would work here so they’d be together and spend every moment together teaching children music and being in love?

Bokuto sighs to himself; that would have been nice for him and Aki, if Aki played an instrument and liked kids and _didn’t_ break Bokuto’s heart into a million itty bitty pieces.

“Bokuto-sensei!” Lev shouts suddenly, “Do you think I can play in the showcase?!”

Bokuto blinks and then shrugs. “Sure. I mean, you’re coming along well and with a little bit more practice-”

“I wanna be a rock star! I wanna play the showcase!” Lev shouts with his eyes gleaming in excitement and his hands holding his drumsticks so tight Bokuto thinks they’ll break. He admires Lev’s passion for something; it makes Bokuto’s chest feel warm that he instilled that in the boy.

Bokuto glances up at the crooked clock that he has hanging in the room that’s usually off by a couple of minutes anyways, so he makes a guesstimate on their time and rests his drumsticks on his snare drum. “I’ll see about rustling up some students to play with you in a band, okay? But you _gotta_ practice more,” Bokuto says and leans forward. “The drummer is the one that sets the tempo for the entire song and everyone is depending on you to keep a steady beat for them to play through. Can you do that, Lev?”

Lev nods once. “I can!”

“Are you a rock star?”

“Yes! I’m a rock star!” Lev shouts triumphantly and ah, he’s mastered twirling his stick between his long fingers.

Bokuto grins and gets up, opening the door and watching as Lev grabs his papers and his drumsticks to stuff in his bag and toss over his shoulder. Lev bounds out of the room with long strides just as the door to Akaashi’s studio opens and Yaku exits right into Lev’s path.

Lev crashes into Yaku and both boys fall to the ground, Yaku with a loud squawk. Bokuto curses under his breath and runs to them as Akaashi is quickly getting down to the ground to help Yaku and Lev up. Yaku is rubbing his cheek, glaring up at Lev who’s nursing a bump on his head.

“Are you some kind of _moron_?” Yaku spits and Lev blinks.

“No? I’m half-Russian,” Lev says bluntly and Bokuto pulls Lev up to his feet. Yaku dusts himself off and rubs his knee as Akaashi gently brushes his hair back into place, dotingly and calm like a mother hen grooming a flustered baby chick.

“Are you alright, Mori-chan?” Akaashi asks and Yaku nods his head. Lev’s eyes widen.

“’Mori-chan’? That’s really cute!” Lev ‘compliments’ and Yaku’s cheeks flush red. Bokuto gives a light tap to Lev’s back and Lev glances back at his teacher tilting his head towards Yaku, but looking directly at him. Lev blinks, then shouts in understanding and then bows his head low and fast, nearly bonking Yaku in the head.

“I’m sorry for making you mad before!” Lev apologizes to the floor. Yaku looks at him and then turns to Akaashi, bowing his head himself.

“Thank you, Sensei. I’ll be going,” Yaku says and Lev stands back upright, quickly following the heels of the piano student.

“Hey, Mori-chan! Wait!”

“Don’t call me that!” Yaku screeches down the hall.

“Yaku-kun! Wait!” Lev shouts back and continues to follow till the boys are out of Bokuto’s sight in the entrance area. Akaashi smiles to himself and glances over at Bokuto who’s only smiling back.

“You have a way with kids,” Bokuto says and Akaashi shrugs, the two of them beginning to walk towards the lounge without a second thought.

“I’m moreso following how my friend handles his elementary kids. He sometimes gives kids nicknames to get them to open up more to him. Yaku-san is very. . .mature for his age, I feel like I’m doing business with an adult man rather than teaching a little kid how to play piano.”

“Same for you,” Bokuto says offhandedly and Akaashi shakes his head.

“I’m twenty-five, not a teenager.”

“I’m twenty-six. Hey, that means I’m your senpai!” Bokuto exclaims and his eyes are big and bright. He’s never had a kohai before, this is so _exciting_ -

“I’ll stick with ‘Bokuto-san’,” Akaashi murmurs and steps first into the lounge where Komi and Konoha are gathered around the table with their lunches splayed out in front of them. Bokuto pouts as Akaashi grabs his coat he has hanging on the wall. “I’m going to go grab something to eat before Tsukishima comes in. Would you want me to get anything, Bokuto-san?”

“Nah, I got a lunch,” Bokuto says, already heading towards the refrigerator. Akaashi nods his head and gives a departing wave to Konoha and Komi before he exits the lounge again. Bokuto takes his personal lunch from the fridge and heads to the table Konoha and Komi are seated at, plopping down into one of the available chairs.

“What’s for lunch today, guys?” Bokuto asks boldly, already opening his to reveal a hefty sandwich that’s stacked with so much meat and cheese and condiments Bokuto can’t even see the bottom slice of bread.

“Soup,” Konoha says blandly and Komi raises a plump piece of steaming chicken.

“Karaage,” Komi comments and Konoha tries once more to steal a piece from his container, but Komi deflects his spoon. Konoha groans as Bokuto tries to get a good grip on his sandwich and make sure the meat doesn’t fall out in one go.

“So you’re going to Akaashi’s engagement thing, right Bokuto?” Komi asks and Bokuto pauses midway from having his first bite, looking over at the bass instructor. Bokuto lowers his sandwich just a bit, still squeezing it tightly to hold everything inside.

“I. . .yeah, I’ll go. But only for a bit, I don’t want it to start being awkward,” Bokuto says and Konoha snickers.

“If anything, it’ll just be awkward for Komi. He was thinking about asking Akaashi out,” Konoha spills and Komi punches Konoha in the arm.

“No I wasn’t! Shut up!” Komi yells with his face starting to brighten. Bokuto grins as Konoha bats his eyes all innocent.

“But didn’t you tell me at the bar that you wouldn’t mind if Akaashi-”

“I was drunk! It didn’t mean anything! I say a lot of things when I’m drunk!” Komi protests.

“Drunk men speak with sober tongues,” Konoha counters and Komi quickly pushes his karaage near Konoha’s bowl of soup. Konoha smiles at him slyly, then puts the story on hold and helps himself to Komi’s lunch. Komi just groans, his face still burning and Bokuto still smiling.

“You didn’t know he was engaged, dude. It’s alright,” Bokuto says reassuringly and Komi huffs. Konoha looks over in Bokuto’s direction, contently chewing.

“You’re hanging around him a lot though, even when you know he is,” Konoha points out and Bokuto blinks, then protectively holds his sandwich close. Some pickles slip out and onto Bokuto’s lap. Dammit.

“Are you trying to blackmail me into giving you some of my food too?” Bokuto questions suspiciously and Konoha shakes his head.

“Just an observation that me and Sarukui had. Ever since. . .the _incident_ happened, you’ve been perking up more whenever he’s around,” Konoha says. He’s wearing a shit-eating grin; Bokuto feels like he should know better than to get riled up from Konoha’s comments, but the smile is stirring something inside his chest that makes his skin feel warm and his head confused. He doesn’t understand what the feelings are right now that are building the longer that Konoha looks at him like this, but he knows he doesn’t like it.

“I don’t know what you’re getting at, but whatever it is, you’re wrong,” Bokuto states flatly and Konoha shrugs.

“Just an observation,” Konoha comments and he finally looks away to go back to his meal of two lunches.

“. . .I’m just being friendly cause he’s new here!” Bokuto suddenly blurts. He doesn’t know why he feels like he needs to defend himself with Michimiya and now Konoha, but the strange feeling in his chest isn’t really gone just yet.

Konoha raises an eyebrow at him and Bokuto pinches at a piece of lettuce buried in his sandwich. “It’s probably a lot for him right now. He moved into a new town, he has a new job, he’s getting married and I’m just making sure he’s getting taken care of! Like any loving senpai would do!”

“Psh, who said you’re his senpai?” Komi asks and Bokuto huffs.

“I did! And I am!” Bokuto gripes and finally bites into his sandwich aggressively. The feeling in the pit of his stomach disappears, but only by a smidge. Bokuto chews quietly while Konoha and Komi begin to talk about some cop show they’re following.

When Akaashi returns with his lunch and sits next to Bokuto, the odd feeling is gone and Bokuto relaxes under Akaashi’s calm eyes and his smile.

* * *

 

“I knew this guy was rich.”

Sarukui looks over at Komi confused. “You literally found out Akaashi was engaged a week ago, _how_ could you have known his fiancé was rich?” Sarukui questions and Komi turns his nose upwards. Bokuto just tries to bundle himself up more in his bomber jacket, looking warily at the rather large home they are about to enter.

There’s cars parked all along the street, ritzy and some of them even foreign. Bokuto’s never felt poor just by standing next to an Italian sports car before, so when Konoha is the first to ring the doorbell, Bokuto wishes that he thought of dressing up more for the party.

The door opens and a redhead is the one to greet them, his drink sloshing out of his glass when he leans forward to peer at them.

“You here for the engagement party?” he asks and then gives a smile that makes Bokuto’s skin crawl. “It’s a black tie party, fellas,” he points out and Konoha frowns.

“Akaashi-san didn’t tell us there was a dress code,” Konoha says and as if he said the magic words, Akaashi appears beside the man and begins to shove him away.

“That’s because there isn’t. Tendou-san, I _told_ you to stop harassing people,” Akaashi scolds. Tendou pouts and gives Akaashi a playful nudge.

“Aw, I was just playing with them, Keiji! They know I mean no harm!” Tendou explains away. He disappears into a crowd of people with a raise of his glass before he can really apologize, while Akaashi just sighs and invites the four inside.

“This place is fucking Western-style. How much money does this guy have?” Komi mutters low under his breath and Akaashi offers to take Bokuto’s jacket. Bokuto turns down the offer and gestures a finger over at Tendou.

“Is he an old friend of yours?” Bokuto asks and Akaashi shakes his head.

“A friend of my fiancé’s. He’s supposed to be our best man, actually.”

Tendou must not be such a bad person then to be trusted with such an important role. That, or Akaashi’s fiancé has bad taste in friends.

Akaashi smiles warmly at Bokuto, hesitates, and then wraps his arms around Bokuto to hug him. Bokuto stiffens, but slowly wraps arms around Akaashi to hug him back. Akaashi is soft under his touch, yet lean. He feels Akaashi’s heartbeat against his chest and the dark curls of Akaashi’s hair kiss his cheek. He’s so warm and Bokuto discovers that he rather likes getting hugs from Akaashi. Subconsciously, he begins to squeeze Akaashi tighter.

“Kei-chan!”

Akaashi breaks away from Bokuto like he’s on fire, his face flushed red and faces the brunet man approaching them with a curious and simultaneously nosy look in his brown eyes. Akaashi awkwardly gestures a hand over to Bokuto and the others.

“Oikawa-san, these are my co-workers at the music studio. Everyone, this is Oikawa Tooru,” Akaashi introduces. Oikawa cocks his head to the side; his eyes make it look like he’s piercing right into Bokuto’s soul and stabbing it rather viciously, Bokuto awkwardly fidgeting under his gaze. Oikawa hums and then nods his head.

“You’re strangely attractive. You would have been a great fake partner for Kei-chan if his fiancé didn’t propose to him,” Oikawa comments and Bokuto blinks.

“Uh. . .thank you?”

“He’s drunk, I’m sorry for his comments,” Akaashi says and Oikawa squawks.

“I’ve only had one drink! Anyways, I’m going to steal the groom-to-be away for a little bit, if you don’t mind,” Oikawa says with a wink and a peace sign thrown up. He already has an arm linked around Akaashi’s and is gently pulling him away without even waiting for Bokuto or the others to respond.

Akaashi gives them all a sorry look and then gestures a hand out to the crowd. “There’s plenty of food and drinks and you can dance, so have fun!” Akaashi calls out before Oikawa succeeds in dragging him away and both disappear in the mass of people gathered in close. Bokuto waves goodbye, before he turns to look at the three behind him.

Sarukui rubs his hands together. “Well, I’m going in for food. Anyone want to join me?” he asks and Konoha runs a hand through his hair.

“I’m going to talk to that girl over there. I think she’s winking at me,” Konoha says and waves his hand, flashing a dashing smile.

“Nah, she has something in her eye,” Komi points out and Konoha scoffs.

“Well don’t try to spoil my fun because you wanted to flirt with an engaged dude.”

“ _I didn’t know!_ ” Komi whines aloud. Konoha winks and makes his way to the girl while Sarukui heads to the food table. Komi pouts and looks at Bokuto, who stands there awkwardly twiddling his fingers and marveling at the décor and furnishings he couldn’t even _dream_ of owning. “You want to scope out some people too?”

Bokuto blinks, then swallows down the dry lump in his throat. “Yeah. . .sure. . .”

* * *

 

“Kei-chan~, I don’t know anyone here so you can’t just leave me like that!” Oikawa whines to Akaashi and Akaashi sighs. He honestly thought that Oikawa would just be himself and schmooze the other guests, leaving Akaashi to be a good host and mingle with others. But since Chikara caught a cold and Koushi couldn’t make it, all Oikawa has been tonight is _clingy_. It’s suffocating and Akaashi _hates_ having someone he can’t shake off.

“Excuse me for being a good host,” Akaashi says dryly and Oikawa hums.

“Yes, I’m sure _really_ good hosts let their guests squeeze them like their own personal teddy bears,” Oikawa comments and Akaashi spins around abruptly, dark glare in his eyes.

“Bokuto-san is a friend of mine and I was _really_ concerned about him coming. You hug me when you’re happy about something, why can’t I hug people too?” There’s a weird defensive edge in Akaashi’s tone and he doesn’t understand why he got so riled up just now. It makes him even more irritated at Oikawa than normal.

“Because you’re not a touchy-feely person, Kei-chan. You only hug people you _really_ _like_.”

“I guess that explains why I’m never the one hugging you.”

“Kei-chan! That’s so mean! Especially after I gave you that awesome engagement present!” Oikawa cries his crocodile tears and Akaashi rolls his eyes.

“If you’re done, I’m going to mingle. Like you should be doing instead of following me around,” Akaashi says sternly. Oikawa pouts, then runs a hand through his hair to dishevel it slightly. He still looks so glamourous, maybe so much that he’s far too unapproachable for others.

Akaashi partly wishes he has a little bit of Oikawa’s confidence and maybe some of Koushi’s warm nature; he doesn’t know how to be a good host and this situation is making him feel a little tense. Frankly, the only thing he wants to do now is go back to his apartment, grab a blanket to snuggle up on the couch, and go to sleep. Maybe he could somehow find Bokuto and the others again-

“And _there’s_ my fiancé,” a voice calls and Akaashi turns right into Souichi’s embrace. Akaashi looks up at Souichi’s face that’s pinker than usual; he must have been at the bar with Tendou.

“How’s the wedding plans coming along, Tatsumi-san?” Oikawa asks politely and Souichi laughs and squeezes Akaashi a little bit tighter.

“That’s for him to deal with,” Souichi says and Akaashi squirms a little bit out of his fiancé’s hold.

“The wedding is in three months though. I would have liked for us to plan it together,” Akaashi murmurs and Souichi sighs, rubbing his hands up and down Akaashi’s arms.

“Well, I’m going to be busy, babe. You know, with this big promotion and everything coming up, I really need to be focused. Plus, I’m not good with coordinating stuff like this,” Souichi says and then chuckles. “What if I get the colors of the napkins wrong at the reception or something?”

Akaashi opens his mouth, closes it, and then looks down at the floor at their feet. “You understand don’t you?” Souichi asks. Akaashi quickly nods his head.

“No, no. I understand,” Akaashi says and Souichi smiles that dazzling smile of his that makes Akaashi feel like butterflies are swimming in his rib cage. Akaashi clutches Souichi’s bicep. “Hey, I want you to meet a friend of mine really quick,” Akaashi says and Souichi shrugs.

Akaashi then turns to Oikawa who’s watching them with a disapproving look that screams ‘Kei- _chann_ , you just turned yourself into his doormat _again_ ’. Akaashi frowns and tries to pretend Oikawa has a different look on his face.

“You’ll be okay alone for a few minutes?” Akaashi asks and Oikawa fakes a pout, before he waves his hand.

“I’ll be at the chocolate fountain,” he says in his lilted and lazy tone, glancing over at Souichi to give a curt nod before he begins to slowly move through the crowd towards the food table.

* * *

 

Bokuto is standing awkwardly by a couch where Komi and Sarukui are talking and eating amongst themselves. He hasn’t seen Konoha ever since he left to talk to that girl, and no one has caught his eye just yet. The party guests are all in little small groups, well acquainted and not looking for any outsiders to join in on their conversation.

Bokuto feels like an outsider just looking in, like he’s in a whole new world entirely. This is the world Akaashi grew up in, _this_ is the world that Akaashi is going to marry in and stay in. The type of world Aki wanted from Bokuto and the type of world Bokuto could _never_ give him. He feels his chest ache and the hand that’s gripped around the cold soda begins to stiffen. Don’t think about Aki, don’t think about Aki, _don’t think about Aki_ -

“Oh, Bokuto-san!” Akaashi calls out and Bokuto looks up, standing at attention as Akaashi approaches and pulls a man along with him.

The man is tall with broad shoulders and a good looking face. He’s dressed clean cut and polished with his brunet hair combed exceptionally neat and perfect. There’s a watch on his wrist that looks dipped in gold and worth more than anything Bokuto could earn in _two_ lifetimes.

He also has a matching ring on his finger that is the same pretty and expensive style as the one on Akaashi’s.

Akaashi gestures a hand towards the man. “Bokuto-san, this is my fiancé Tatsumi Souichi. Souichi, this is a co-worker of mine, Bokuto Koutarou. And over there is Komi and Sarukui,” Akaashi introduces and Komi and Sarukui wave from their spot on the couch. Bokuto shivers when he hears Akaashi say his first name so casually; it rolls off his tongue so nicely.

Akaashi wraps arms around Souichi and rests his head on Souichi’s chest, smiling warmly at Bokuto. “So, what do you think?” Akaashi asks and Bokuto blinks.

They look. . .stylish together, like both are two matching pieces to create the perfect couple ensemble. Surely a couple that matches will stay together. Course, Bokuto’s always found the idea of opposites attracting to be more romantic, like Kuroo and Kenma. Akaashi’s marriage will probably be the ones he saw on television when he was a child. One spouse will stay at their lavish home and not have to worry about a thing or lift a finger, while the other spouse brought home the money and would come back to dinner and a welcome home kiss.

“Yeah. . .you two look like you’re going to have a happy marriage,” Bokuto says. It’s not so enthusiastic, but he says it with a smile anyways.

Akaashi smiles at Souichi. “He has an eye for these things,” he tells him. Souichi raises an eyebrow.

“What, he’s some sort of psychic or something?” he asks dryly and Bokuto bites his lower lip.

“I-I just, I don’t know, sometimes I can tell if a couple is going to be happy together,” Bokuto says sheepishly. Souichi hums and smiles a toothy grin.

“Is that so? Hey, you probably should have helped out this one guy before he made a fool of himself at his wedding,” Souichi says, glancing down at Akaashi. “You remember Ogano, right? He works at a catering company? Anyways, the wedding he worked at had a runaway groom,” Souichi says and begins to laugh. “There were so many people that went to the wedding too so the guy he was going to marry got embarrassed in front of _everyone_. Heard he even threw a mirror cause he was so pissed. Bet he felt like shit,” Souichi laughs.

Bokuto laughs too, empty and hollow. Komi’s eyes are blown wide and he looks like he wants to jump from the couch and sucker punch Souichi in the throat. Sarukui’s eyes flicker from Bokuto to Souichi like he’s watching a tennis match. Akaashi just stands there completely mortified.

“Ah, yeah. That must have _really_ sucked for him,” Bokuto says through clenched teeth and Souichi grins.

“Yeah, that was cruel. Forgot the guy’s name though, Makoto or something. But hey, thanks for your ‘blessing’ or whatever, man. You got a drink from the bar yet? The bartender knows how to make the most _exclusive_ of drinks,” Souichi says and Bokuto shakes his head.

“No. I’m driving.”

“Oh, bummer. Well, nice meeting you,” Souichi says and lightly punches Bokuto’s shoulder before he kisses Akaashi’s cheek. “I’m gonna go and talk with some guys from _my_ job, so I’ll let you hang out with your friends,” Souichi tells him. Akaashi still looks too stunned to even speak, but Souichi doesn’t notice.

The man disappears into the crowd behind them, Bokuto watching him go with his lips twisted in discomfort and a bad taste on his tongue. Akaashi finally croaks out a noise, eyes so sorry and his cheeks flushed in embarrassment.

“Bokuto-san, I’m _so sorry_ -” Akaashi apologizes and Bokuto raises his hands.

“It’s alright, it was a ridiculous situation and he didn’t know it was me-”

“I swear he wouldn’t have said that if he knew,” Akaashi says and bites his lower lip. “Souichi is a good person, honest. He just. . .he sometimes doesn’t see things from other people’s perspectives.”

“That’s a nice way to say he’s egocentric,” Komi says offhandedly and Sarukui pinches his ear. Akaashi bites his lower lip and Bokuto smiles, lightly punching Akaashi in the shoulder.

“It’s alright, Akaashi! You’re marrying the man, so you know him better than we do. And if you say he’s a good guy, then he’s a good guy,” Bokuto says strongly and gives a thumbs up. “I bet the next time we see each other, it’ll go a whole lot smoother!”

Akaashi smiles and sighs a breath of relief. Bokuto hums and gives a low whistle. “So. . .that’s your fiancé. . .how are the wedding plans coming along?” Bokuto asks and Akaashi rubs the back of his neck.

“Well. . .he’s. . .um, well Souichi is really busy with work. You know, big promotions and all and lots of projects. He barely has time to even sleep, let alone plan a wedding. So. . .I’m just going to take over all the arrangements,” Akaashi says with a weak smile that carries already a tinge of stress.

“Oh, I see. Yeah, it’s probably tough working in big business. It was never really my style anyways,” Bokuto says and grins. “I’m more of a hands on, ‘down and dirty’ kinda guy myself.”

“I don’t know where the ‘down and dirty’ part fits in with being a drum instructor, but I understand what you mean,” Akaashi says with a little laugh and Bokuto laughs too, filled with life and warm cheeks. Akaashi tucks a curl behind his ear. “Also, I wanted to say thank you for the recommendation to Ikejiri. His floral arrangements were _beautiful_ and they were right in my price range.”

Bokuto feels like his smile is growing bigger and he nods his head. “Sure! No problem!”

“I don’t suppose you know a good catering company too, do you?”

“Well. . .obviously not the one I had since they gossip. . .um, I have a friend whose wife runs a catering company. I can give you her number so maybe you could set something up,” Bokuto offers and Akaashi smiles.

“I’d like that.”

Bokuto nods his head once more and his cheeks are beginning to hurt from smiling so hard. But it feels nice at the same time, like he wouldn’t mind spending the next hour smiling at Akaashi if he gets to see Akaashi smiling at him all the same.

Sarukui gets up and begins to head toward the food table again, walking past Bokuto and whispers, ‘He’s _engaged_ ’ low enough for only Bokuto to hear. Bokuto whirls his head to see Sarukui’s smile and his face grows immediately hot.

“I-I know!” he yelps and Akaashi tilts his head to the side inquisitively.

“Know what?”

Bokuto clamps down on his lower lip. “Uh. . .know that. . .” he points an accusing finger at Komi, who’s currently eating some finger foods, “know that Komiyan had a _major_ crush on you.”

Komi chokes on his food and coughs, whirling around so fast that he could have thrown out his neck.

“B-Bokuto you ass! Akaashi-san, it’s not true!” Komi pleads and Akaashi hums, before his smile grows a little sly and teasing.

“So you don’t think I’m attractive enough to have a crush on, Komi-san?”

“Oh my god, I hate you all,” Komi groans and buries his face in his hands.

Bokuto laughs at his friend and Komi flips him off, before he gets up and grumbles that he’s heading to the bar. Bokuto turns to Akaashi and sticks his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

“Well you probably have to go and be a good host and all,” Bokuto says.

“Yeah, but I’m sure I’ll see you again later on,” Akaashi says and rests a hand on Bokuto’s bicep. “You’re feeling alright, though? Having fun?”

Bokuto is momentarily distracted by Akaashi’s touch that he blinks and stares for a few seconds, then quickly nods his head yes.

Akaashi smiles. “Alright then, I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah. You can catch me by the food table, those sandwiches you guys have are _great_.”

Akaashi nods his head and gives him a thumbs up and wink, before he waves goodbye and gets swallowed up by the crowd of party guests. Bokuto stands in place, filing away the feel of Akaashi’s hand squeezing his arm in his brain along with the sound of Akaashi’s laugh and the visage of Akaashi’s smile.

Bokuto socializes with Komi and Sarukui. He eats with some family members of Akaashi and learns about the piano instructor and how he and Souichi met. He doesn’t meet Akaashi’s mother, who bounces from guest to guest and doesn’t bother with people that’s dressed like Bokuto (or any of his friends for that matter), nor Akaashi’s father who is apparently still in France. He turns away drinks from Tendou and dances with Oikawa who Bokuto finds a _little_ attractive, but also kind of a pain in the ass. He dances with Akaashi and he feels warmth building in his chest and electrifying his limbs and later on ignores the strange knowing looks he gets from Sarukui.

They leave at around midnight and Akaashi walks them to the door while the party continues in full swing. Konoha, who disappeared all night basically, pockets a paper with a phone number written in eyeliner and Akaashi gives Bokuto a goodbye hug that Bokuto wishes could go on longer.

Bokuto drops everyone off at their homes and then drives home to his. He enters his small apartment, sheds his clothes and prepares for bed. When he closes his eyes, he dreams of warmth and a lilted laugh instead of waking up in a cold sweat from a nightmare of being alone and surrounded in cold nothingness.

That night was the first night since his wedding that Bokuto fell into a comfortable and good sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> akaashi and bokuto exchanged lines last episode *breathes heavily*


	4. just thinking about you

“Eh?! I don’t want to perform with _him!_ ” Yaku cries indignantly. His face is peachy red and there’s tears burning at the corners of his big, doe eyes. Almost like Akaashi just _suggesting_ the idea of Yaku performing with Lev is enough to drive him to tears. Akaashi leans back to close the door to his studio; if he can hear Lev shouting over his drumming down the hall, surely Lev could have heard Yaku shouting in annoyance.

Akaashi turns to the child and sighs. “Mori-chan, Lev needs to join a group in order to play in the showcase, but he isn’t as advanced as Komi-sensei’s and Konoha-sensei’s students to be in a band,” Akaashi explains. Yaku huffs.

“But piano doesn’t go with _drums_.” It almost sounds like _Yaku_ is the one that’s scolding Akaashi for being so foolish. Akaashi takes a few seconds to marvel at how Yaku’s personality doesn’t match his age at _all_ while Yaku gently pushes his foot on the sustain pedal and puffs his cheeks.

“Piano sounds nice with drums. Like in a jazz arrangement, they work together really nice. Maybe Bobata-sensei has a student that could perform with you and it will be a trio. Wouldn’t that be fun?”

Yaku hums and ducks his head. “I. . .guess. . .”

“He’s not that bad, Mori-chan. You’ll probably become best friends after this,” Akaashi says with a little laugh and Yaku huffs.

“He’s so obnoxious, Sensei. He tried to give me a half-eaten chocolate bar to say he was sorry,” Yaku explains and Akaashi’s smile gets bigger.

“You’re _still_ angry with him? Didn’t he knock you down by accident two weeks ago?”

“I can be mad at him for as long as I want cause he’s stupid,” Yaku says defiantly and Akaashi ruffles his hair. He glances up at the clock with tree branches working as the hour and minute hand that Bokuto had bought for him as a ‘studio-warming’ present.

“Well, maybe you guys can make up next week. We can start practicing for the showcase then,” Akaashi says and Yaku nods his head, cheeks filled with red and his lips curling into a displeased frown. Yaku takes his book and places it neatly alongside his folders of notes and loose sheet music. He tugs on his backpack and gets up from the bench, walking out of the door that Akaashi opens into the hallway.

Lev and Bokuto are leaving at the same time and Akaashi places a hand on Yaku’s shoulder to keep him from leaving so soon. When Lev’s eyes spot Yaku hiding behind Akaashi’s slim legs, they brighten in excitement and he immediately runs over to the teacher and student.

“Hi, Yaku-kun!” Lev greets loudly and Yaku worries his lower lip in between his teeth.

“. . .Hi. . .Haiba-san-”

“Lev is okay!” Lev corrects. His eyes seem to get even bigger and happier, possibly because the smaller boy is actually engaging in conversation with him. Akaashi gestures a hand to Yaku, eyes meeting Bokuto’s curious ones.

“Bokuto-san, Yaku-san said he would like to perform with Haiba-san in the showcase. Like a jazz trio with maybe one of Bobata-san’s students joining in?”

Bokuto nods in agreement, eyes wide and he gives Akaashi a thumbs up. “That’s a great idea! What do you think, Lev?”

The brightness is still in Lev’s eyes as he stares Yaku down, like he’s trying to coax the boy out from behind Akaashi the harder he looks at him. Lev turns to look at his teacher and cocks his head to the side.

“Eh? But I want to be a _rock star_. Rock stars don’t play jazz,” Lev complains and Bokuto laughs haughtily, crossing his arms.

“My young pupil, rock stars are versed in _all_ types of music!” Bokuto explains and raises a finger. “They say a musician that can play any type of music is the greatest musician of them all. And _surely_ you’re going to become the greatest musician of them all if you have me for an instructor, right?”

Lev eagerly nods his head. “Yeah! Yeah! I wanna do it! I wanna be a great musician and be a rock star!” Lev shouts and Bokuto laughs once more, patting Lev on the back.

“Then we’re in!”

“Yay!” Lev chirps and spins on his heels, looking back at Yaku who was now only peeking his head out from behind Akaashi’s legs. “Don’t worry, Yaku-kun! If you’re nervous, I’m going to practice till I get _really_ good and then no one will pay attention to you cause I’ll be so awesome!”

“I’m sure he’d want someone to pay attention to his performance too, Haiba-san,” Akaashi speaks up while Yaku begins to fume. Lev nods his head and gives a thumbs up.

“Yeah! Cause he plays piano really pretty!” Lev exclaims and the biting comment Yaku took a second to think up immediately went out of his head. Yaku stares at the boy as Lev begins to go on about how Yaku’s chords are still a little choppy and out of sync, but the melodies are really pretty and he can _hear_ Yaku’s effort. Yaku’s cheeks are tinting pink, but not out of anger anymore.

“We’ll start working more on his left hand chords then, right Mori-chan?” Akaashi asks and Yaku jumps in his spot, turning his face away.

“O-Ok,” he stammers and steps away, bowing his head. “I’ll be going now, Sensei.”

“Yeah, me too!” Lev shouts and turns to Bokuto. “I’ll see you next week, Bokuto-sensei!”

“Sure thing, dude!” Bokuto grins and gives Lev a fistbump. He offers a fistbump to Yaku, who awkwardly taps his fist against Bokuto’s knuckles. Both boys wave goodbye and then scurry off down the hallway to their parents in the lobby, while Bokuto moves to stand by Akaashi with a smile that can’t stop spreading across his lips.

“This is going to be so much fun! You and I don’t get to hang out that much other than work so this is great! Our kids are going to be so awesome! They’ll be the next best thing since sliced bread! Like. . .” Bokuto pauses and thinks for a few moments while Akaashi just looks at him with an eyebrow raised, “like. . .sliced meat. But the good kind of sliced meat, not the pre-packaged ones you buy at the 8-Eleven.”

“The type that they cut for you at the deli,” Akaashi further elaborates and Bokuto snaps his fingers.

“Yeah! Or the kind that they serve with the really fancy cheese! And there’s a bunch of different types of them that really brings out the flavors of the cheese and they have those colorful toothpicks in them!”

“Like the ones at my engagement party?”

“Yeah! Man, those were _so good_ , Akaashi. My mouth’s watering just thinking about them,” Bokuto says with a heavenly sigh and then rubs the back of his neck. “Wait, what were we talking about?”

“I don’t know, you lost me at comparing our students to sliced meat,” Akaashi admits with a smile and a quiet chuckle behind the back of his hand. Bokuto claps his hands and laughs as well.

“Right! So, we need to get together and start to brainstorm some music selections,” Bokuto says and snaps his fingers. “You up for grabbing some takeout and discussing jazz over some grilled meat later on?”

Akaashi sighs. “Actually, I promised a friend that I’d babysit his kid so he could go out on his anniversary dinner with his husband,” Akaashi explains and Bokuto nods his head, rocking back and forth in his worn out shoes with torn laces.

“How long they’ve been married?” Bokuto asks and Akaashi hums, glancing up to the bright lights above them to think for a moment.

“I believe. . .three years?”

Bokuto whistles and smiles, filled with a longing but also a warmth that hasn’t been present for the past couple of weeks. “That’s great. That’s going to be you soon in a couple of years,” Bokuto says and Akaashi smiles. “Well hey, I don’t mind coming over to your place and helping out. You know, I could bring some food for you this time and we can still get some work done _and_ watch the kid. I _love_ kids!”

“He’s only a year old.”

“Even better! I love babies!” Bokuto exclaims and Akaashi smiles, then tilts his head down the hall towards the lounge.

“I brought some food for lunch, do you want to sit and eat together?” Akaashi asks. Bokuto shakes his head.

“Not today. You know that friend that I was the best man for and. . .well, he’s back from his honeymoon today, so I promised that I’d take him and his husband out to eat for lunch. You know, to make up for what I did,” Bokuto says, tone remorseful. He perks up for just a little bit. “We’re going to that café you took me!”

“Sounds like it’ll be fun. Then I’ll text you a good time to come over,” Akaashi says and waves his hand. “I’ll see you later, Bokuto-san.”

“Yeah! See ya around, Akaashi!” Bokuto shouts. Akaashi turns on his heel and begins to walk to the lounge, Bokuto still standing in the hallway watching him go, unmoving even as Akaashi disappears from his line of sight. When he finally moves, his step is a little shaky and his knees are trembling. Bokuto’s lips are dry and his chest feels like there’s a strange knot where his heart should be.

Straightening his posture, Bokuto slams his fist against his chest to get his heart beating in proper sync and wonders what the hell just happened.

* * *

 

“You’re not a nanny, why doesn’t he just call a babysitter?” Ai complains loudly and stares disdainfully at Chikara lying on his baby blanket that Akaashi has spread out in the living room. The ugly feng shui statue is finally out of Akaashi’s living room for good and in its place is enough walking room to set up Chikara’s play area, toys and his carrier.

Akaashi is on his knees by the baby, gently rolling Chikara onto his back before he glares at his mother.

“I _offered_ to babysit. Mother, why are you even _here_ right now?” Akaashi doesn’t mean to sound so irritated, but the words leave his mouth faster than he can censor them. Ai narrows her eyes at her son and begins to curl a finger into her dark tresses.

“Well, I just wanted to check on how you were doing with the wedding arrangements. Especially since Souichi can’t help you and three months are going to go by so quickly-”

“I can handle it.” Really, Akaashi _can’t_ , but he can’t handle his mother swooping in and obsessing over every meticulous detail more.

Chikara giggles as Akaashi gently rolls him onto his back once more when he tries to stand up, kicking little feet into the air and lightly tapping against Akaashi’s forearm. His eyes are big and bright and his smile is infectious as Akaashi begins to play with his tiny fingers and tiny toes.

Ai huffs and adjusts the strap of her purse across her body. “Well, in case you _do_ need help, I’m only a phone call away,” she says. There isn’t a begging tone in her voice, but Akaashi knows she’s upset. Before Akaashi could maybe offer _one_ thing his mother can take care of, there is a sudden flurry of knocks at his front door.

Ai and Chikara both jump at the noise while Akaashi gets to his feet and crosses over to answer it. The moment he does, he gets wrapped up in a bear hug by Bokuto with the smell of takeout mixed with cardamom wafting into his nose.

Bokuto’s hugs are different from Akaashi’s. Akaashi starts off slow and cautious, before squeezing tighter and pulling you in more. Bokuto hugs with his entire body. He holds Akaashi close to his chest with big, strong arms and he cranes his neck to nuzzle his cheek into Akaashi’s messy curls.

His chest is broad and firm and warm and Akaashi feels like he might suffocate the tighter Bokuto squeezes. His hug is so filled with happiness, with warmth, that makes Akaashi feel like he’s hugging a big black and white stuffed owl. As he hugs him back and dips his nose into the fabric of Bokuto’s jacket, Akaashi realizes something.

Bokuto smells really nice. Comforting and sweet like a home Akaashi wants to come back to.

“Who is this?” Ai asks and Akaashi pulls out of Bokuto’s grasp to look at his mother’s curious eyes. Bokuto slips off his shoes and strides into Akaashi’s apartment, hand outstretched towards her with a friendly smile on his face.

“I’m Akaashi’s senpai, Bokuto Koutarou!”

“He’s just a co-worker,” Akaashi says and Bokuto pouts.

Ai doesn’t shake Bokuto’s hand. Instead, she begins to circle around Bokuto like a vulture sizing up its prey. She reaches a hand out and drags it down from Bokuto’s shoulder to his bicep, then trails it up Bokuto’s chest and gently traces an outline of his jaw with a red fingernail. Akaashi feels his face flush up as Bokuto gives an awkward chuckle and look over at him.

“Why do all of your friends inspect me before they talk?” Bokuto asks and Akaashi quickly strides over and swats his mother’s hand away from feeling up Bokuto’s other arm.

“Mother, _stop it_. He isn’t some animal that you could prod.”

“Well I’m just _curious_ about what kind of friends you managed to scrounge up here, that’s all,” Ai says with a pout of her own, steely eyes giving Bokuto’s body another look over. Chikara coos again, bringing himself to his feet so he can get a look at Bokuto himself. Little hands grip the edge of Akaashi’s coffee table as he takes tentative steps towards the three adults.

Bokuto gapes and hands off the takeout to Ai (who fumbles with it and holds it at arms length), rushing over to scoop Chikara up and hold him high in the air like the baby is the most amazing thing he’s seen in his life. “Oh my god, you’re the cutest thing ever!” Bokuto cries in amazement and brings Chikara down to blow a raspberry in his tummy.

Chikara giggles and laughs as Bokuto raises him up and down, Ai watching the two interact and Akaashi taking the (rather heavy now that he holds it) bag of food from his mother to set down on the kitchenette counter.

“The body of a man and the brain of a child. . .interesting,” she muses and Akaashi sighs, opening the door.

“We have work to do. I’ll call you later-”

“What _kind_ of work? He knows you’re engaged, right?” Ai questions, but slips on her heels nonetheless as Akaashi feels a vein pop in his forehead.

“ _Work_. Have a safe drive home,” he answers instead.

Ai glares, but she leans forward to give Akaashi a kiss to his cheesk. She glances over her shoulder at Bokuto still playing with Chikara, spinning around and around with the child above his head. Ai hums and steps outside, Akaashi watching her leave until she turns the corner to the elevators and he closes the door.

Akaashi sighs deeply and rests his forehead against the door as Bokuto whistles low and brings Chikara close to his chest.

“So _that’s_ your mother. She’s. . .nice?” Bokuto sounds unsure and for some reason, a smile starts to pull at Akaashi’s lips. He turns and walks back over to the two, taking Chikara out of Bokuto’s arms. Chikara snuggles into his sweater, burying his cheek into the warm cotton fabric.

“She can be a menace at times, but she means well. Usually,” he murmurs. Akaashi gives Chikara a little bounce and looks over at the food that he set down on the counter. He then looks down at the baby that’s in his arms, all big eyes and wonder with little hands reaching out to grasp for him.

“We’ll have to wait till he falls asleep. I don’t feel comfortable having him wander around while we’re eating and working,” Akaashi says and Bokuto gives him a thumbs up.

“That’s fine! He looks like he’s ready to play till he poops out! What’s his name?”

“Chikara.”

“Chika-chan! That’s so cute! Your friend is lucky to have a baby like him!” Bokuto gushes. His hands look like they’re itching just to play with Chikara again, so Akaashi slowly gets down on the floor and starts to grab some toys. Bokuto drops down very fast and gets to his stomach, making baby noises as Chikara is placed down on his hands and knees and crawls over to Bokuto’s face.

Chikara begins to pull on Bokuto’s hair and Bokuto begins to make noises with each curious tug. Chikara must like it, since he pulls harder at Bokuto’s hair and Bokuto just makes the noises even louder. Akaashi smiles at the two of them, but he can already feel the beginnings of a headache forming at the front of his brain with each whine that Bokuto makes and Chikara loves.

He supposes that he’s taken on _two_ children for tonight.

* * *

 

**Koushi - 20:12**

**Heyyyyy**

**Koushi - 20:12**

**Is chikara ok?**

**Koushi - 20:13**

**Does he miss me or dadchi?** **Cause we can come pick him up right now if he does**

**Akaashi Keiji - 20:14**

**He’s fine suga san**

**Akaashi Keiji - 20:14**

**He’s getting a little sleepy we’ve been playing with him all this time**

**Koushi - 20:15**

**We?**

**Akaashi Keiji - 20:15**

**A friend came over**

**Akaashi Keiji - 20:15**

**He’s a coworker and not a creeper so your child is in safe hands**

**Koushi - 20:17**

**Is it the hot owl guy that oikawa met at ur party?**

**Akaashi Keiji - 20:17**

**Hes not a hot owl guy**

**Akaashi Keiji - 20:17**

**But yes**

**Koushi - 20:17**

**Well well ☆～（ゝ。∂）**

**Koushi - 20:18**

**Isn’t this scandalous**

**Akaashi Keiji - 20:19**

**I have no idea what you’re talking about and you should be enjoying your dinner**

**Koushi - 20:19**

**Daichi's on a bathroom break and the food hasn't arrived yet**

**Koushi - 20:20**

**Send me a picture of hot owl guy so I can see for myself**

**Akaashi Keiji - 20:20**

**Suga-san you’re already married**

**Koushi - 20:21**

**And I wouldn’t trade him for anyone else in the entire universe**

**Koushi - 20:21**

**I still want to see hot owl guy :P**

Akaashi furrows his eyebrows at the text message and figures that maybe he shouldn’t respond. He doesn’t know what Koushi is getting at and frankly, it’s starting to agitate him for some reason.

“It’s rude to have phones out at the dinner table,” Bokuto chastises with a mouthful of mozuku.

“It’s a coffee table, Bokuto-san. Phones are exempt,” Akaashi states, but tucks his phone into his lap anyways. Chikara is trying to keep his eyes open and watch the two of them, but his eyelids keep falling closed and he keeps snuggling more into the warm blanket that Bokuto draped over him for his nap.

“Anyways, so what I was thinking was that we’d do a fast jazz number. Lev isn’t all that good with taking things slow, so a big band jazz song will be _perfect_ ,” Bokuto explains and opens up another box of takeout, then frowns. “Are the dumplings by you?”

Akaashi checks a couple of boxes to his left before he finds the one Bokuto wants and hands it over. “Yaku-san’s strength lies in his melodies, but he isn’t that quick. How about something that’s a _little_ slow?” Akaashi asks.

“How slow? Like moderato?”

“Slower.”

“Then that’s too slow for Lev,” Bokuto mutters and stuffs a few dumplings into his mouth, before he leans back and grabs his bag from off the couch behind him. He pulls it to his side and sifts through it while Akaashi eats, pulling out a stack of blank sheet music and a thoroughly chewed pencil.

Bokuto taps the tip of the pencil against the first line, before he begins to write out a drum beat in 5/4 time signature.

“Ok, so we can maybe take the melody part a little slow. We can focus on chords for the piano,” Bokuto begins to pencil in chords on the offbeat, “and then when Lev slows on the drums, the piano could take over and work with the trumpet, so Yaku will be playing along with someone.”

“You can write music, Bokuto-san?” Akaashi asks and Bokuto glances up at him, blush on his cheeks and a sheepish smile etching over his lips.

“Well, a little. I mean, my dad used to write music all the time, so I kind of just picked up what I learned from him. I don’t know anything about theory or stuff,” Bokuto mentions. Akaashi does see that the sheet music has a name signed into the top right corner that isn’t Bokuto’s. The handwriting is bold and quick, like someone signed it off in a quick hurry.

“Is this his sheet music then?” Akaashi asks, leaning over to tap the name in the corner. Bokuto nods his head. Akaashi can see the brightness dimming from Bokuto’s honey colored eyes, and he worries that he might have struck a chord he didn’t even know was there.

“Yeah. . .he used to write jingles for commercials, you know. Like the ones that you’d listen to over and over again when you were a kid and made the product _really_ memorable. I was always his test audience before he took it to the companies. He’d play his guitar and sing and ask for my input on lyrics sometimes. . .he made me really want to become a songwriter like him,” Bokuto says. He’s looking at the signature now, gently tracing the strokes with the tip of his pointer finger.

“Except, I don’t want to write jingles. I want to write music that you could really listen to and feel something. Happiness, love, excitement, I want people to start listening to one of my songs and _know_ what kind of emotions were going through my head when I wrote it. . .you get what I mean?” Bokuto asks. His eyes are wide and bright again, like he just snapped himself out of a trance.

Akaashi nods his head in agreement.

“I understand. . .your father sounds amazing, Bokuto-san.”

Bokuto grins. “Yeah, he was,” he replies and leans backwards, taking the box of dumplings with him and begins to turn them over with his chopsticks. Akaashi waits for Bokuto to continue, but the drum instructor just begins to contently eat the food in his hands. He feels it would be best not to pry, so Akaashi instead takes the sheet music and looks it over, humming a melody that fit in with Bokuto’s rhythm written on paper.

A little whimper sounds before Akaashi can make a comment. He looks down at Chikara beginning to squirm uncomfortably in his carrier and his face growing peachy red. Bokuto quickly places his box down with the others and wipes his hands on his thighs.

“Oh, I’m sorry Chika-chan! Were we not giving you any attention?” Bokuto asks and Chikara scrunches his nose and begins to wail. Bokuto leans forward and gently takes Chikara out of the carrier, quirking an eyebrow and pursing his lips. He whirs his head towards Akaashi. “Dirty diaper. I can change him while you eat,” Bokuto says and Akaashi gets to his feet.

“No, it’s alright. _I’m_ the one that’s supposed to be watching him anyways,” Akaashi says and holds his hands out for Bokuto to hand Chikara over. Bokuto pouts and cuddles a crying Chikara closer to his chest instead. “I have never met someone who was actually sad they _didn’t_ get to change a dirty diaper,” Akaashi chastises, reaching down to grab Chikara’s diaper bag from beside the coffee table.

Akaashi holds his hands out expectantly and Bokuto regretfully hands over the baby. Akaashi bounces Chikara to sooth his cries. “. . .Well, come on. We can change him together-”

“I’ll get the baby powder!” Bokuto shouts, jumping up and banging his shin against the side of Akaashi’s table. Bokuto screams in pain and Chikara only cries louder, while Akaashi stands and wonders just what the hell is he getting himself into.

* * *

 

One diaper change and pain ointment application later, Bokuto is sprawled out on Akaashi’s couch and Chikara is sleeping comfortably on his chest. Bokuto’s large hand holds the tiny child in place and Chikara clutches to the front of Bokuto’s shirt. Bokuto must not mind that there’s a little spot of drool beginning to form on his chest; instead he hums a sleepy lullaby and watches the ceiling fan above them turn round and round.

Akaashi watches the two of them over the top of his laptop, jazz music playing in one ear and Bokuto’s gentle humming in the other. Frustratingly, this would have been a great picture to send to Koushi. He wants to take a picture, but he doesn’t want to be weird and take a picture without Bokuto’s permission. But Bokuto and Chikara look so cute and Akaashi’s brain is throwing around random thoughts of what a good father Bokuto will be and if Souichi will be just as natural with children as Bokuto is.

He can’t even picture Souichi like this, lying out on the couch cuddling with a baby. Souichi is all business suits and work, not diaper changes and lullabies. Akaashi didn’t think of himself as much of a baby person either, but seeing Bokuto like this is enough for him to consider it.

“How’s the song selection coming?” Bokuto asks all of a sudden and Akaashi jumps in his spot, dragging his eyes away from Bokuto to focus back on the screen of his laptop.

“Uh, I’m still looking,” Akaashi’s words stumble out of his mouth, face burning and his ears growing hot. He hopes Bokuto doesn’t notice how distracted he sounded, or didn’t catch him staring. He wishes he could take his laptop and smack it against his forehead, if only to get the thoughts of ‘Bokuto’ and ‘Bokuto with _children_ ’ and ‘Akaashi and Bokuto with children vs. Akaashi and Souichi with children’ out of his mind.

A few more minutes pass and Bokuto returns to humming and Akaashi’s eyes wander back up like there’s a magnetic pull. Bokuto’s eyes are closed and his free hand is gently tapping a rhythm against the side of the couch. His foot gently bobs up and down and he’s rubbing Chikara’s back in soothing little circles. Akaashi’s heart swells.

“You’re very good with children, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi compliments and a smile pulls on Bokuto’s lips.

“I gotta be if I’m going to teach them, right? I always wanted to have a family of my own and have kids, so being a teacher is the closest I can get,” Bokuto says and sighs. “Would have been nice to have kids with Aki. I bet if we did a surrogate, the kids will come out _gorgeous_.”

Akaashi notes that Bokuto’s tone didn’t drop like it usually did when he spoke about his ex-fiancé. He pauses the music playing on his laptop for a brief moment.

“Did he want kids too?”

Bokuto laughs dryly. “Nope. He hates kids. I don’t know, I thought that maybe when we got married, that would be something that would change. . .you know when I said I knew he was ‘the one’?”

Akaashi nods his head and Bokuto turns his head to look. His eyes are dull but there’s still warmth in his smile. “I lied,” Bokuto murmurs and Akaashi pauses.

“What do you mean?”

“Well. . .okay, you got to promise not to laugh cause whenever I tell Kuroo or Konoha about it, they always say it’s stupid and laugh.”

“I promise I won’t laugh.”

“ _Really promise_?”

“Do you want me to pinky swear with you or something?” Akaashi questions and Bokuto’s free hand moves up, his pinky extended. Akaashi rolls his eyes and leans forward over the coffee table, linking his pinky with Bokuto’s and shook twice. “There. I, a grown man, just pinky swore with you like a five-year-old.”

“Akaashi!” Bokuto whines but quells when Chikara begins to stir on his chest. They both watch as Chikara turns and snuggles back into Bokuto’s shirt, fast asleep. Akaashi falls back and Bokuto’s free hand goes to gently card through Chikara little tuffs of hair. “Well, I feel like you know it’s the one when everything just slows down. Like in the movies? Everything is in slow motion and you’re just standing there like ‘holy shit, I’m in _love_ with you’ and it’ll probably take getting hit with a cannonball to snap out of it.”

“That would be sad since you’d be dead afterwards,” Akaashi muses and Bokuto pouts.

“Akaashi, you could just agree with me. Like ‘wahh, that’s so romantic, Bokuto-senpai!’!”

“Waah, that’s so romantic, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi repeats, monotone and dry. Bokuto huffs and Akaashi hides his smile behind his hand. “So you never felt that way with Aki?”

“I guess I tricked myself into thinking that it happened. Maybe when he finally said ‘yes’ to marrying me was when he became ‘the one’. The more that I think about our relationship, the more I realize how one-sided it really was,” Bokuto says and smiles. “Maybe I’m finally getting over him. That’s good, right?”

“That’s great,” Akaashi says and Bokuto beams bright as the sun.

“What about you? How did you know Souichi was the one?”

Akaashi looks down at his wedding ring around his finger and contemplates. “I guess. . .I always imagined ‘the one’ as a person I could grow old with. . . Souichi will be a really good looking older man, don’t you think?”

Bokuto shrugs as best as he could on the couch. “I guess. . .I probably won’t age well like that. I’d probably be like my grandpa and forget to put on pants when I go get the mail.”

Akaashi laughs, bright and jovial and his body shakes with each little giggle that intensifies when he imagines an elderly Bokuto shuffling around with his owl hair thinning and wagging a cane in only a robe and boxers. He’s usually not one to burst out laughing, always keeping his laughs quiet to maintain a professional aura. When he looks up, he finds that Bokuto is staring at him with wide eyes and a smile of his own.

“Wh-What is it?” Akaashi asks and Bokuto’s cheeks flush red, fighting down his smile.

“You just. . .I never heard you laugh like that,” Bokuto says. “I like it.”

Akaashi runs a hand through his hair, breathing out one last laugh and sigh. “Maybe you should be funnier then,” Akaashi comments and Bokuto gapes.

“I’m hilarious! Just you wait, I’m going to tell you my _collection_ of knock-knock jokes at work and you’ll be laughing so hard you’ll turn blue!”

Akaashi slips his earphones back in. “I’ll be looking forward to it.”

* * *

 

Koushi and Daichi arrive just a little after Akaashi convinces Bokuto to return home and get a more comfortable sleep than what he was getting on Akaashi’s couch. It took a few minutes of back and forth banter, puppy dog eyed stare downs from Bokuto and a promise from Akaashi that he’d talk to Koushi about letting him babysit again for Bokuto to finally tug on his jacket and slip on his shoes. With an enveloping hug that warmed Akaashi to his core and a goodbye kiss to Chikara’s head, Bokuto took off for home.

Chikara is more than happy to see his fathers come through the door and Daichi is the first one to scoop Chikara into his arms and hold him tight. Koushi may have acted like he was the one most concerned about leaving Chikara alone for the night through his texts, but now as Akaashi sees Daichi kiss Chikara’s hair and his nose and all over his child’s round face, he could tell who was the one that missed their baby the most.

“Did your friend leave already?” Koushi asks and Akaashi nods his head.

“Just an hour ago before you came.”

“Darn, I wanted to see what he looked like,” Koushi huffs and holds out his hands to take Chikara while Daichi begins to grab the diaper bag and carrier. Koushi kisses Chikara’s forehead and bounces him gently while Chikara coos in content and gives Koushi a smile that’s reserved only for him. “Did you have fun with Keiji and his secret lover?” Koushi asks in a babying tone. Chikara coos happily and Akaashi scowls.

“Why do you and Oikawa-san say crazy stuff like that? He’s _just_ a friend.”

Koushi laughs. “I know, I know. You love Tatsumi-san.”

Akaashi nods his head in agreement, but he still feels on edge. Koushi’s tone is inquisitive, like he’s asking a personal question instead of stating the obvious. It feels like Koushi is trying to prod at something in Akaashi’s chest with his eyes and his gentle smile and it makes Akaashi feel uncomfortable. He breaks his gaze with Koushi to look at Daichi setting up the carrier.

“Thanks again for babysitting, Akaashi. If you ever have kids, we’ll return the favor," Daichi promises. 

“It’s no problem. I can babysit for Chikara anytime you two need a break,” Akaashi offers.

The couple smile and Koushi adjusts his hold on his son. “I’ll text you to let you know we made it home safely,” he says and pulls Akaashi in for a soft hug and Chikara pulls at Akaashi’s hair. Akaashi hugs back and gently extracts Chikara’s little palm before he shakes Daichi’s hand and escorts the family out. He watches them depart down the hallway before he closes his door back and locks it shut.

He crosses back to the living room and figures he might as well get some rest. Tomorrow is when he starts looking for suits and check out the catering company Bokuto recommended. He reaches for his phone to Google the address, but his front screen buzzes with a text from Bokuto.

**Bokuto - 22:24**

**I forgot my bag (;*△*;)**

**Akaashi Keiji - 22:24**

**I'll bring it to your place tomorrow don’t worry**

**Bokuto - 22:25**

**c( O.O )ɔ**

**Bokuto - 22:25**

**Ah thank you thank you!! ill** **treat you to ice cream promise!!!! (ﾉ≧∀≦)ﾉ**

Akaashi sighs at the phone but smiles nonetheless. He glances up and notices that Bokuto’s bag is indeed tossed off to the side of Akaashi’s couch, sheet music spilling out of the opening. He exits out of the chat message and looks at the contact information, and at the new photo that he’s attached to Bokuto’s name.

Bokuto, snoring loudly, with Chikara cuddled up on his chest and sucking his thumb.

Akaashi promises himself he’ll change the photo with a proper one eventually.

After a minute of staring at the picture, he thinks it will be unlikely.

* * *

 

“Man, I didn’t know how much stuff he had over here,” Bokuto mutters and tosses Aki’s toothbrush into the cardboard box on the floor by the television. It’s filled with old photos of Aki and anything that Aki owned that he’s never bothered to come by and take back. With each bit of clutter that Bokuto tosses into the box, his mood begins to lighten.

He turns to Kuroo, who is sitting on the couch and lazily running his hand through Kenma’s hair. Kenma is splayed over Kuroo’s lap, his DS in his hands and golden eyes intensely focused on the game at hand. The couple reminds Bokuto of a loving owner petting their beloved cat, if the cat was human and also played video games and the owner was married to the cat.

So maybe nothing like that at all. Meh, he was never a metaphor person.

Bokuto places hands on his hips. “What do you think I should do with all of this stuff? He probably deleted my number from his phone so I don’t think I can make him come down here and pick this box up,” Bokuto asks.

“Build an effigy of him out of his stuff and burn it to the ground,” Kuroo says without even taking his eyes off the television screen.

“Or you could throw it away like a normal person,” Kenma retorts.

“The burning effigy is more fun. We can roast marshmallows.”

Bokuto’s eyes widen. “Oh! And we can make s’mores too!”

“Yeah! That’s what I’m talking about!” Kuroo cheers and hi-fives Bokuto. Kenma rolls his eyes and decides to just focus on the game in front of him.

The doorbell sounds and Bokuto perks up even more. “Oh, that’s probably Akaashi!” Bokuto chirps and Kuroo raises an eyebrow. Bokuto doesn’t notice the gesture and bounds out of the living room, jumps over the genkan and throws open the door with a booming greeting and the biggest of smiles. Akaashi flinches away, like Bokuto is going to barrel him over as the drummer barely manages to keep his footing.

“Hey, hey Akaashi!” Bokuto greets and reels Akaashi in for another enveloping and crushing hug. Akaashi hugs him back and Bokuto could feel himself concentrating on the way Akaashi’s fingertips move over his spine and the span of his back. He relishes how Akaashi’s curls tickle his cheek and how soft they are against his skin. He’s partially curious how it would feel if he rakes his fingers through it-

Wait, _what?_

“I hope you don’t mind, but I wrote in a melody for the rhythm you made out,” Akaashi says into Bokuto’s clavicle, looking up at Bokuto with lidded, emerald eyes. Bokuto blinks down at him, slowly untangling his arms from around Akaashi’s lithe frame and takes the bag that he left behind.

“Oh, sure! That’s fine, I’ll look it over, yeah,” Bokuto says with a nod and warm cheeks. “So, um, you want to go for ice cream now?”

“I have some plans today. I have an appointment with that caterer you recommended me.”

Bokuto’s eyes widen. “Oh! Tell Yachi I said ‘hi’!”

Akaashi smiles. “I’ll be sure to pass on the message. You’re not going to be bored at home, are you?”

Bokuto shakes his head. “Nah, I’m going to build an effigy out of Aki’s stuff, burn it, and roast marshmallows over the fire,” Bokuto announces. Akaashi blinks, then slowly nods.

“Creative. A little over the top, but creative.”

Bokuto gives Akaashi a thumbs up and Akaashi folds his hands behind his back. “Well, I won’t keep you from your marshmallow roasting. I’ll see you at work, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi says and bows his head. Bokuto grins and Akaashi lets himself back outside. Bokuto watches him go till he trails out of his line of vision, then closes the door and rests his forehead against the wood.

When Bokuto turns, Kuroo is up and leaning against the doorway leading to the living room.

“So _that’s_ Akaashi.” Kuroo has a shit-eating grin on his lips and Bokuto feels electricity shooting up his spine. “He’s cute.”

“Dude, your _husband_ is in there,” Bokuto says and Kuroo glances in the living room.

“Kenma, Akaashi is cute, isn’t he?”

“Yeah,” Kenma responds, then he groans loudly. Probably missed a power up. Bokuto flushes red.

“W-When did he even see-”

“He’s like a ninja. Quick and stealthy, that’s how he stole my heart.” Kenma groans again, but Bokuto’s sure that this time it’s not because of his game. Kuroo shrugs and turns on his heel. “Anyways, we got some marshmallows to roast so let’s get started~” Kuroo sing-songs and strolls back into the living room.

Bokuto swallows a lump that formed in his throat, then checks his bag and pulls out a sheet of music. Akaashi’s handwriting is so neat and perfect compared to Bokuto’s own sloppy and quick strokes underneath. He hums the melody and realizes that he actually _knows_ this song and a smile forms on his face as he imagines Akaashi playing piano and Bokuto following behind with his drums.

He wonders if Akaashi is just as composed and professional when he plays, or does he go all out and wild like Bokuto? Does he smile? Does he laugh? Does he dance around on his seat to his melodies? He wants to watch Akaashi play. He wants to play _with_ Akaashi.

“Oi, are you going to keep daydreaming about your co-worker or are we going to roast some marshmallows?” Kuroo calls from the living room and Bokuto jumps. He stammers and coughs, before he slips the music back inside his bag and pushes the thought of Akaashi and his piano to the back of his mind.                               

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy extremely belated birthday akaashi keiji, you beautiful setter you


	5. not about that modern love

“Bokuto-sensei, I want to play the drummmss,” Lev whines and slumps against the wall. Bokuto crosses his arms and stares at the door where Akaashi and Yaku are behind, listening to someone play the first part of ‘Once Upon a Dream’ over and over again. Due to the repetitions, he guesses that it’s Yaku.

“We’re waiting for them so we can start working on the showcase together,” Bokuto says and Lev pouts.

“So why can’t we ask them if they’re ready?”

The real reason is because Bokuto kind of just wants to listen to Akaashi play and be mesmerized by the melodious tunes he could make on the piano. Instead, he tells Lev ‘it’ll be rude and stop asking’. Lev huffs and begins to tap out a rhythm against the walls with his drumsticks. Bokuto doesn’t bother to tell him to stop, he just focuses in on the piano and listens for Akaashi. He waits and waits and Lev moves to drumming against the doors of other studios (that are luckily empty).

Eventually, the door opens and Yaku and Akaashi step out into the hall instead. Bokuto is quick to mask his disappointment.

“Ah. Bokuto-san, what are you doing out here?” Akaashi asks and Lev stops drumming.

“He wanted to wait till you guys were done so we can practice together! Hi, Yaku-san!” Lev greets and bounds over to the piano student who waves at him. Bokuto flinches and rubs the back of his neck.

“W-Well, I was just wondering if maybe we could demonstrate the song to them and show them how it should sound like,” Bokuto says and looks up at Akaashi. “It’s ‘My Favorite Things’, right? That was the melody you wrote in?”

“Yes, I found it went well with your rhythm you wrote out. But I already played a little bit for Yaku-san before our lesson-”

“But it was incomplete! We didn’t have drums in there so it’s like you’re giving him half the finished product. Like. . .giving someone half of a pie!”

“Why would I give someone half of a pie, Bokuto-san?”

“I don’t know! But I wanted to play with you!” Bokuto blurts and gnaws on his lower lip, feeling his face growing hotter the longer Akaashi looks at him in confusion. Akaashi hums.

“Then should we get Bobata-san and his student as well? If he’s not there, then it’ll be giving someone only two thirds of a pie. Two-thirds is better than a half, but not as good as a whole, right?” Akaashi asks. Bokuto can’t tell if Akaashi understands his logic or is just humoring him, but he nods his head in agreement.

“Right. Lev, go and get Bobata and Yahaba while I show Yaku-kun and Akaashi the orchestra room,” Bokuto says and Lev stops gushing to Yaku on how he’s practiced tossing his sticks up in the air and catching them. Lev nods his head and dashes off down the hall and makes a sharp left. Bokuto gestures down the hall in the opposite direction. “Well, we’ll be going this way,” Bokuto says. Akaashi and Yaku nod their heads and begin to follow Bokuto.

The orchestra room is the largest room in Fukurodani, mainly used for practice sessions that involve more than two instruments. Bokuto peeks inside the window to make sure it isn’t being used, before he opens the door and switches on the light. He allows for Akaashi and Yaku to walk in first and closes the door behind him.

Akaashi immediately goes over to the grand piano in the corner and Bokuto heads for the drums. It’s a smaller setup than his own, but it’s enough to just do a quick jam session and simple enough for Lev to play on. Akaashi plays a few chords and arpeggios before he nods his head in approval.

“For something so dusty, it’s in good tune,” Akaashi comments and Bokuto laughs.

“Yeah, we haven’t had many piano students use this room since they prefer to do solos. Are you excited about playing, Yaku-kun? Lev’s been talking about it ever since we decided you two are playing together,” Bokuto asks and Yaku grips the strap of his bag tightly.

“I guess,” Yaku murmurs, face tinting pink. “But I don’t want him to be flashy and screw up,” Yaku confides and Bokuto hums, tightening the suspend cymbal.

“He wants to be a rock star, so he likes to be flashy. You’re not into rock stars, huh?”

Yaku shrugs, unsure. Bokuto leans back on his stool and grins. “Piano players can be flashy and play perfectly. Besides, it’s alright to make mistakes during the showcase. No one is going to be perfect and we all just want to see what you’re working on. It’s all about having fun, right?” Bokuto asks and Yaku nods his head ‘yes’.

The door opens and Lev strides in, but Bobata and Yahaba aren’t following. Bokuto furrows his eyebrows.

“Lev, where’s Bobata and his student?” Bokuto asks and Lev scratches the back of his head.

“He meant to tell you, but Yahaba isn’t going to be performing with us. He’s playing a trumpet duet with Kyotani,” Lev informs and Bokuto frowns. He knew Bobata had two students that went at each other’s throats like cats and dogs, but he didn’t expect them wanting to perform _together_. Maybe Bobata was right about it just being some stupid puppy crush and that’s just how Kyotani acts on it.

Bokuto curses under his breath and looks towards Akaashi. “I guess we’re back to being a duet,” Bokuto announces and Akaashi pats the spot next to him on the piano for Yaku to sit down.

“It’s alright, we can work something out,” Akaashi says and looks down at Yaku. “Since Bokuto-san insists, do you want to hear how the song sounds with drums? It’ll give you a better idea on how the rhythm and chords are supposed to go,” Akaashi explains. Yaku nods his head and Bokuto quickly grabs hold of his drumsticks, waiting for Akaashi to get into position and start off with the melody.

He hears Akaashi count off, quiet and quick, before the piano begins and Akaashi’s fingers move over the keys in fluid motions. The melody sounds so _beautiful_ and Bokuto almost misses his cue to join in with the drums because he is too caught up in listening to Akaashi. He follows through with a gentle snare, careful to not overpower Akaashi in sound as he holds the beat.

They both sound so amazing together and Bokuto feels something bubbling in his chest that’s making him bounce on his stool and smile up at the lights. Jam sessions with Konoha and Komi are always fun, but this feels different somehow. He feels like he’s had a dozen coffees and the energy is oozing out of his pores without control and shaking his core. His heart is racing like he’s giving a performance live, but his eyes are only on Akaashi instead of the nonexistent crowd.

Akaashi is swaying and moving his body with his hand leaps up and down the piano. Bokuto thinks he can see a little smile on Akaashi’s lips, but from this angle it’s hard to tell. He moves with such ease and ebbs and flows with the melody in such an enchanting way; Bokuto finds it hard to tear his eyes away from Akaashi’s figure. He’s just so. . . _beautiful_.

Bokuto gets a little bit off-tempo because his mind blanks out and where the heck did _that thought_ come from?

He catches up and tries to focus on playing through the rest of the song, keeping up the professionalism of a teacher as best as he can while being enamored with Akaashi’s playing. When Akaashi finishes out with a glissando and Bokuto delivers a gentle crash to the cymbals, his palms are unusually sweaty and his heart rate is abnormally fast in his chest. He almost forgets that Lev and Yaku are there, so when he hears Yaku give a polite round of applause and Lev screaming in awe, he jumps a bit in his stool in shock.

“That was so _cool!_ I’m going to play like that?! I’m going to sound so _awesome!_ Let me try! I can do it! Let me try!” Lev shouts and eagerly paws for the drumsticks still in Bokuto’s sweaty grasp. Akaashi turns to look over his shoulder at Bokuto and gives him a gentle smile, a pretty pink flush over the bridge of his nose.

“You’re quite talented, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi says, clapping his hands in approval. Bokuto swallows a dry lump in his throat and gets up from his stool, narrowly knocking over the tom-tom.

“Er, uh, yeah, you were really good too,” Bokuto stumbles over his words, handing the drumsticks over to Lev. Lev grips them tightly, then makes a disgusted face as he holds the sticks out at arm’s length.

“Bokuto-sensei, your hands are _really_ sweaty. Were you really nervous or something?” Lev asks in that obnoxiously innocent tone and Bokuto feels his cheeks growing even warmer. He pouts and wipes his hands on his pants.

“Of course not! Rock stars don’t get nervous!” Bokuto loudly proclaims to calm down the blush creeping on his face. Lev marvels at his teacher’s overconfidence and Bokuto clears his throat. “I’m just going to grab a water bottle really quick and turn on the air conditioning. It’s kind of stuffy in here,” Bokuto replies and Lev nods his head, plopping down on the stool and trying his hand at the opening of the song.

Bokuto excuses himself as Akaashi begins to go over the melody with Yaku once again, gentle smile still on his lips.

The moment Bokuto enters the breakroom and grabs a water bottle from the ice cold fridge, a million conflicting emotions – happiness, excitement, confusion, guilt, fear – hit him at once. The feelings sit in his gut during their joint practice and long after the kids leave with their respective parents and Akaashi leaves to prepare for his lesson with Tsukishima. They remain when he returns to his own home, heat up his meal for dinner, and weigh heavy on his mind as he tries to go to sleep.

Just. . .what is going _on?_

* * *

 

“A gig?” Akaashi asks curiously and Komi nods his head, slurping down a mouthful of noodles. His eyes watch as another shrimp roll passes him by on the conveyer belt and then glances at the tower of plates slowly beginning to build up on his side. _Maybe_ he can get another one, especially since Konoha is the one treating them both.

“Yeah, Saeko always has us perform the last weekend of the month for the teenagers. It’s a lot of fun and you haven’t really seen all of us play so. . .”

“Yeah, I’ll tag along,” Akaashi says with a smile and Komi smiles back, then frowns and awkwardly ducks his face downwards towards his steaming bowl.

“I’m not trying to flirt with you or anything. Just so you know,” Komi says quickly and Akaashi laughs.

“I didn’t take it like that way at all, Komi-san.”

“Good. Cause I don’t need Konoha to try and-”

“Try and what?” a voice echoes playfully and Konoha immediately reappears and takes his seat on Akaashi’s other side. He snatches up a plate of avocado rolls and places it in front of him, before taking his chopsticks and twirling them in between his fingers.

“Komi-san invited me to your gig this weekend,” Akaashi explains and Konoha snickers.

“Aw, you were supposed to let Bokuto have the pleasure of asking our beautiful piano teacher out on a date,” Konoha teases and Komi bangs his fist on the bar.

“It’s not a date!” he yells and both Konoha and Akaashi shush him from drawing too many eyes in their direction. Komi huffs and goes back to his noodles while Konoha shrugs.

“Well, if Bokuto does ask you, pretend that you haven’t been asked before. It’ll make him happy,” Konoha says and Akaashi raises an eyebrow, then takes another plate of sushi.

“I don’t know why, but if you say so,” Akaashi murmurs. Konoha just smiles.

* * *

 

**Bokuto - 19:16**

**Hey hey hey!!!**

**Bokuto - 19:16**

**So we have a gig this weekend and I thought that you would want to see a real rock star perform!! ╰(✧∇✧)╯**

**Bokuto - 19:17**

**U kno, unless ur busy with the wedding and everything （ ; ; ）**

**Akaashi Keiji - 19:18**

**Id love to come bokuto-san**

**Bokuto - 19:18**

**(•̀o•́)ง**

**Bokuto - 19:18**

**Great! I’ll pick u up and take u there at around 6!!!!**

**Akaashi Keiji - 19:19**

**Ok**

**Bokuto - 19:23**

**Im not trying to ask u on a date or anything**

**Bokuto - 19:23**

**Jsyk**

**Bokuto - 19:23**

**Cuz ur engaged**

**Bokuto - 19:23**

**And that would be weird**

**Bokuto - 19:24**

**We’re just friends**

**Akaashi Keiji - 19:25**

**Of course**

* * *

 

“ _You’re going on a date with him?!_ ”

“It’s _not_ a date,” Akaashi corrects, rummaging through his closet while keeping his cell phone tucked in between his ear. He can tell Koushi is rolling his eyes right now, even though they’re miles apart. In the background, he can hear a gentle lullaby playing and also loud snoring. Daichi must have also fallen asleep during Chikara’s nap.

“ _Keiji, you **so** have the hots for him_.”

“Shut up, no I don’t,” Akaashi snaps. A button up will be too formal for just going to a bar, so he places the red shirt he has in his hands back into the closet. He then reaches for a grey T-shirt and starts to search for jeans to match. “For your information, I’m going to be getting married in just _six more weeks_. Plus, Bokuto-san isn’t even my type.”

“ _I feel like you have a weakness for the dorky type_.”

“I thought that was you.”

Koushi feigns a gasp, but then hums. “ _Yeah, he can be a little dorky. But those thighs of his make up for it._ ”

“I _so_ did not need to know that, Suga-san.”

Koushi gives a gentle laugh. “ _Well regardless, have fun. Wear those jeans that bring out your legs_.”

“It’s not a date so I don’t need to dress sexy.”

“ _I didn’t say you needed to be **sexy** , those are just a nice pair of jeans_,” Koushi says playfully and Akaashi feels his face heating up in annoyance. He gives an irritated huff, but grabs the jeans Koushi is talking about anyways.

“Right. Since this _isn’t_ a date, I can wear whatever I want,” Akaashi comments. When he holds the T-shirt and jeans against him and looks in the mirror, the outfit _does_ coordinate nicely. Koushi laughs again.

“ _Sure, sure. I better get dinner started before my men wake up from their nap. I’ll talk to you later_ ,” Koushi replies. Akaashi nods his head and says his goodbyes, before he hangs up the phone and tosses it on the bed. He looks back in the mirror and furrows his eyebrows. Akaashi doesn’t understand why he’s putting so much thought into this when it’s _not_ a date. Bokuto said so himself that they’re just friends. Yet, Akaashi feels. . .nervous. He didn’t have this reaction when Komi asked him to the exact same gig, so why is it any different when Bokuto asks him?

Akaashi doesn’t have any time to be frustrated over these conflicting feelings welling in his chest, since when he glances over at the clock on his nightstand, it alerts him that Bokuto should be coming in another hour and he still needs to get ready. Akaashi lies his clothes out on the bed and then grabs his robe to head to the shower, mumbling the sentence ‘It’s not a date. It’s _not_ a date’ over and over as if it will somehow calm his nerves.

Across town, Bokuto is mumbling the same mantra to himself.

* * *

 

Saeko’s bar isn’t that far away from Akaashi’s place when Bokuto arrives and takes him over to the venue of their gig. It’s a modest size, nothing really flashy on the outside to draw people in but yet, the bar is _packed_ with teenagers and young adults all seated around at tables and at the counter. In the middle is a dance floor that’s also packed with people jumping around and dancing to the band currently on stage. Bokuto directs Akaashi over to a booth area where he sees already a couple of people enjoying some drinks and appetizers.

“Yo! Hey, hey hey!” Bokuto bellows, still managing to sound extremely loud amongst all the noise around them. Kuroo waves him over and gives his bro a hug, Yukie and Kai also greeting Bokuto but giving curious glances over at Akaashi. Bokuto gestures a hand out to Akaashi. “So, this is my kohai at Fukurodani! Akaashi, this here is Yukie and her husband Kai – the ones that were high school sweethearts and got married – and _this guy_ ,” Bokuto claps a hand on Kuroo’s shoulder, “this guy is my BFF, brother from another mother, most raddest dude _ever_ , _Kuroo Tetsurou!_ ”

Akaashi bows his head. “Pleasure to meet you all,” he responds and Kuroo pats the space next to him. Akaashi slides in and Bokuto places his hands on his hips triumphantly. “This is great! You get to meet _my_ friends now, Akaashi! You guys are going to love him. He plays piano and he’s _super_ talented and great with kids!”

“I’m not _that_ great, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi says with the tips of his ears tinting pink under the dim lights.

“He’s so modest too!” Bokuto adds on and Akaashi grows redder. “Hey, if you’re up for it, maybe I can talk to Saeko about dusting off the piano and maybe you and I could jam in front of an audience?”

“No, I think I just want to watch you perform,” Akaashi says and smiles. “You’re really good on the drums, but I never really had the chance to enjoy watching you perform from an audience’s perspective. But maybe another time?”

Bokuto beams like everything about the world is perfect. “Sure!”

The two smile at each other, eyes filled with such warmth. Yukie smiles and breathes a sigh of relief.

“It’s great to see that Bokuto has found someone nice like you, Akaashi-san. I’m already beginning to like you more than Mitsuki,” she says. Bokuto whirls around to face her.

“W-Wait, he’s not my boyfriend if that’s what you’re thinking!” Bokuto corrects and Kai cocks his head to the side.

“Really? Kuroo said otherwise.”

“Kuroo you dick! He’s engaged! W-Why would I want to be his boyfriend?!” Bokuto stammers and Kuroo smirks. Akaashi folds his hands in his lap and looks down at the table where some teens have carved their names into the wood.

“You make it sound like it’s a bad thing,” Akaashi comments and Bokuto spins back to face him, shaking his head and his hands wildly.

“Ack! No, no, no! I didn’t mean anything bad by it! Who _wouldn’t_ want to be your boyfriend?! It’s just, you know, you’re engaged! And so you’re off-limits and it’ll be wrong and it’s not that you’re not attractive or nice or boyfriend material or anything but just that I-” Bokuto clamps his mouth shut and then wrings his hands through his hair. “Agh, he’s just a friend! He’s not my boyfriend!”

“Alright, alright. Relax. We don’t need your brain exploding before you perform,” Kuroo teases.

Bokuto puffs his cheeks in annoyance and huffs. He was hoping that tonight will go smoothly and he wouldn’t feel this strange awkward _thing_ that’s been coming up lately. This feeling of his stomach twisting in knots and his chest squeezing so tight that he can’t breathe. He probably needs to go see the doctor because this _can’t_ be normal.

A hand pats him on the shoulder and takes him out of his thoughts. He turns to look over at Tanaka Saeko grinning cheekily at him, a tray of sodas balancing in her other hand.

“And there’s my drummer! The others are already in the back, you guys are going up next,” she says and glances over at Akaashi. Her eyes brighten and she grins. “Konoha was right, your new boyfriend _is_ a cutie,” she compliments and Bokuto flushes hot red and sees white.

“He’s not my boyfriend!” he shouts and stalks away towards backstage before anyone can make another comment. Akaashi gets up to try and follow him, but Kuroo holds him back and shakes his head.

“It’s alright. He’ll calm down after he plays a few songs. He likes to get a little riled up before a gig anyways,” Kuroo explains and Akaashi bites his lower lip. He’s not sure if _this_ type of riling up will do any good for Bokuto’s performance, but he doesn’t know what else to do.

Saeko places a hand on her hip. “Well ‘not-my-boyfriend’, do you want me to get you a drink?”

“Maybe just a beer for now, I guess,” he murmurs and she gives him a thumbs up. Kuroo also puts in a drink order while Saeko drops off two sodas in front of Kai and Yukie. She then begins to push her way back into the crowd of dancing people, tray still balancing perfectly in her hand.

Akaashi folds his hands in his lap, lightly biting on his lower lip. Kuroo rests his chin into the palm of his hand.

“So, you play piano?”

* * *

 

When Bokuto and the others finally get out on stage, Bokuto is beaming and grinning once more. Akaashi isn’t sure if Konoha or Komi talked him out of his sour mood beforehand, or if he’s still seething underneath the blinding smile. Akaashi himself doesn’t know how to feel about this situation; do people _really_ think that he and Bokuto look close enough to be boyfriends?

Akaashi gently rubs the wedding band around his ring finger and thinks about Souichi and how close they were since he’s set the date. They talk from time to time and Souichi takes him out to dinner every other week. Akaashi _wants_ to spend more time with him, but Souichi just wraps himself up in his work. Usually by the time Souichi even gets back to his place, he’s too tired to even hold a comprehensible conversation over the phone. Akaashi then thinks about maybe just moving in with Souichi like his fiancé wants. He’ll see him more often than he does now, but then he’ll have to pack up all his stuff and find another place to work since Fukurodani is a _much_ farther distance to drive to from Souichi’s home than Akaashi’s.

He looks back up at the stage and Bokuto is drumming wildly, yet holding a consistent beat for Komi and Konoha to play along to. Konoha doesn’t look like it, but he’s actually a really good singer as well as a guitar player. Akaashi’s partially curious why he doesn’t teach singing as well. The people all around are getting into the music and dancing to the beat on the dancefloor. Some are singing along to Konoha if they know the words and the people at the tables are tapping their feet and dancing in their chairs.

Akaashi smiles and looks at Bokuto performing. He surely is a sight to see, but of course he already knew that Bokuto is talented. This is different from when he played with Bokuto during their lesson for Yaku and Lev, however. Akaashi didn’t get the chance to see just how much energy and love Bokuto puts into his drumming. Bokuto shakes his head wildly and sings along to Konoha’s words, he does tricks with his drumsticks and still manages to power through with his beats with no mistakes that Akaashi can hear. He smiles so much that Akaashi can’t help but to smile back, like Bokuto’s energy is infectious and he _has_ to dance and smile and have as much fun as the drummer is now.

He’s so amazing. Akaashi wants to watch Bokuto perform all the time.

Kuroo throws a lazy arm over the back of Akaashi’s cushion, tilting his beer bottle towards Bokuto and the band. “So, what do you think about him?” Kuroo asks and Akaashi blinks. He almost forgets that there’s other people seated at the table with him; Konoha’s date he met at Akaashi’s engagement party had arrived just before the band opened up and is now up front cheering Konoha. Yukie and Kai are watching the guys perform and talk amongst themselves.

Akaashi turns to Kuroo who’s watching him closely. “I think he’s very talented, if that’s what you mean,” Akaashi says, unsure. Kuroo hums.

“He talks about you all the time, so I thought that maybe you and him might have-”

“No, we’re just friends. I’m getting married soon actually,” Akaashi cuts off, his cheeks warm.

“Congratulations,” Kuroo says and clinks his bottle against Akaashi’s before taking another swig. “Bokuto loves weddings. Well, _used to_. But he’s gotten a whole lot better ever since Mitsuki left and you came into his life, so thanks for helping my best bro out when he needed it,” Kuroo says. His smile is genuine, not teasing like before. Akaashi relaxes a bit, wiping a bead of water off the neck of his beer bottle.

“Can I ask. . .what happened between Bokuto-san and his fiancé?” Akaashi asks and Kuroo raises an eyebrow. “I mean. . .how Bokuto-san talked about him before what happened, they both sounded so in love with each other.”

Kuroo sighs. “He’s just a romantic. He loves the _idea_ of love and he thinks that love is supposed to play out exactly like it is in movies or books or stuff. To be honest, Mitsuki always had a snobby attitude and Bokuto was wrapped around his finger. He never really paid any attention to the little things that Mitsuki did, like red flags going up that he’s _not_ the right guy.”

“And you saw them, Kuroo-san?”

Kuroo rubs his neck. “Well. . .I don’t know. . .I remember him telling me how he and Mitsuki took pictures in those little photo booths at the mall and the next time he went to Mitsuki’s place, he found the photos tossed off to the side like junk mail. Bokuto had his on his bedstand, even after they broke up. He kind of brushed it off as Mitsuki just being momentarily careless and it might not have been as big of a deal as I thought before, but little things like that just made me uneasy about what Bokuto saw in him. It sounds stupid-”

“No, no,” Akaashi says, “I understand. . .I believe it’s the little things about a person that counts. And all the little things about Bokuto-san should be appreciated by someone who loves him more than Mitsuki-san did.”

Kuroo smiles and chuckles low to himself, eyes going back to Bokuto on stage. Akaashi turns to watch Bokuto and the smile easily drifts back onto his lips like it was meant to be there.

* * *

 

Bokuto, Konoha and Komi come to their table after their last song and after they put away their instruments. They squeeze into the booth, Konoha giving his date a kiss to the cheek and Komi accepting a complimentary drink from Saeko. Bokuto eases next to Akaashi, his eyes bright with excitement.

“How was I?! I was good, right?! You had fun, right?!”

“You were great, Bokuto-san. I really enjoyed watching you,” Akaashi compliments and Bokuto rubs the back of his head bashfully. Bokuto then glances around the table and cocks his head to the side.

“Hey, where’s Kuroo?”

“Kenma called him to let him know his gaming tournament at his friend’s place was over and he went to get him. He’ll call you tomorrow morning,” Yukie relayed the message and Bokuto nods his head. Akaashi tucks a curl behind his ear.

“Maybe we should be heading out too. We _do_ have work tomorrow morning,” Akaashi says and Komi raises his glass.

“The night’s still young, Akaashi-san! We haven’t even got a chance to dance and hang out since we got here!” Komi shouts. Konoha slings an arm around his date’s shoulders, gently leaning his head against the side of hers.

“They haven’t even gotten to couple’s dance yet,” Konoha mentions and Bokuto frowns.

“Well, we’re _not_ a couple so we don’t have to stick around if he doesn’t want to,” Bokuto says. Konoha’s date nudges him in his side.

“Oi, don’t tease him like that,” she scolds while Konoha laughs. Bokuto looks to Akaashi, red tinting his cheeks.

“You wanna get out of here? Maybe we can stop and get some frozen yogurt too before I drop you off at your place,” Bokuto says and grins. “Nothing like frozen yogurt after a gig, right?”

“I don’t know, I’ve never been to a gig, remember?” Akaashi says and Bokuto pouts.

“Well then, as your senpai, it is my _duty_ for you to experience such a great thing as frozen yogurt after a gig! Come on!” Bokuto says excitedly and gets out of the booth with Akaashi following. Akaashi turns to Yukie and Kai and gives a bow of his head to them.

“It was very nice to meet you again,” he says and then waves at Konoha, Komi and Konoha’s date. Bokuto gives his friends a thumbs up.

“I’ll see you tomorrow and call you later, Yukie!”

“Have fun, you two,” she says and everyone says their goodbyes as well. Bokuto then gestures towards the exit, silly grin on his lips.

“After you, good sir,” he says and Akaashi smiles, both of them taking their leave out of the noisy bar and back into the city.

* * *

 

The frozen yogurt shop is only a block away from Akaashi’s home and the drive back is shorter than Bokuto would have liked. But he doesn’t understand why he feels this way and doesn’t realize that he’s frowning until Akaashi brings it up in between small bites of his yogurt.

“Are you alright, Bokuto-san?” Akaashi asks and Bokuto glances over at the piano instructor.

“Huh? Yeah, I’m ok. Just thinking,” Bokuto murmurs and Akaashi smiles.

“You shouldn’t do something so dangerous while driving, Bokuto-san.”

Bokuto feigns like he’s been stabbed in the heart. “You should be nicer to your senpai after he takes you out and buys you frozen yogurt, Akaashi!” Bokuto cries as he pulls up in front of Akaashi’s apartment building and parks his car. He’s back to pouting in a second, mulling over the thought of what is this weird _thing_ that he feels whenever he’s with Akaashi.

“Well,” Bokuto starts, “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow morning then with Lev.”

Akaashi stirs around his frozen yogurt in his cup, bits of graham cracker sticking to his spoon mixed in with the vanilla and caramel. “I’m not ready to go just yet,” Akaashi murmurs and Bokuto tilts his head to the side.

“Eh? We could have stayed with the others if you still wanted to stay out,” Bokuto mentions. Akaashi huffs and takes a rather aggressive bite of frozen yogurt. Bokuto’s mind happily chirps how cute Akaashi looks when he’s angry and Bokuto bites his tongue to keep from saying it out loud.

“Well, maybe I just wanted to stay out with you,” Akaashi admits and Bokuto blinks. Instantly, his face feels on fire and he breaks out into nervous laughter.

“R-Really?! Well, t-then we can go someplace else or something if you want? I mean, I don’t really know where else to go. Uh-”

“Sitting here is fine with me. At least until I finish this,” Akaashi says, voice calm and quiet even though his hands are trembling. Bokuto nods his head, his own hands trembling as he reaches out to turn on the radio.

“Right, um, how about some music?” Bokuto asks, his voice croaking. Why is he getting so _nervous?_ He’s sat with Akaashi a buttload of times, why is this any different? The radio station immediately clicks on some soft rock music and Bokuto awkwardly leans back in his chair, gently tapping his hands on his thighs.

This is nothing. This is _nothing_. They’re just _friends_. Bokuto bites the inside of his cheek and flares his nostrils. If he’s being honest with himself, he has to say that he _does_ like Akaashi. But who _wouldn’t_ like Akaashi? Akaashi is smart and he’s talented and he’s kind. He’s good with kids and he’s polite and he’s _so pretty_. It’s totally _normal_ to like Akaashi because he’s a likeable person! Like Bokuto! So there’s no reason to be nervous! Komi likes Akaashi and Konoha and Sarukui are fond of him too so what’s the difference?!

Bokuto begins to laugh and Akaashi glances over at him. “What’s so funny?” he asks and Bokuto shakes his head.

“Ah, it’s nothing. Hey, how do you like your frozen yogurt?” Bokuto asks and Akaashi takes another bite.

“It tastes good. Did you want to try some?” Akaashi asks and offers his spoon. Bokuto opens his mouth eagerly and Akaashi gives him a big spoonful of vanilla and caramel. Bokuto eats it and tries to get over the sudden brain freeze taking over him, then hums in content and gives Akaashi a thumbs up.

“You have great taste in picking the right toppings for frozen yogurt! When I took Kuroo and Kenma, their frozen yogurts tasted _weird_.”

“Maybe their tastes aren’t up to yours,” Akaashi says and continues to eat. “By the way, thank you for recommending me Yachi-san. The menu is going to be wonderful for the wedding,” Akaashi says and Bokuto turns a bit in his seat so he’s facing Akaashi better.

“Oh? How’s that going for you? Did you get most of the important stuff out of the way yet?” Bokuto asks and Akaashi rests his cup in his lap, giving a tired sigh.

“Well, only with your help I was able to get a catering company and the floral decorations for the wedding. I don’t even know where to look for wedding photos, suit and dress rentals that _won’t_ suck my wallet dry, or music. My friend helped find a place for the reception, but I can’t keep pestering him when he has to take care of Chikara and work himself,” Akaashi says and Bokuto nods his head in understanding.

“What about your parents then? Or your other friend, the one that said I’m weirdly attractive?” Bokuto says with a waggle of his eyebrows. Akaashi laughs and takes another bite of his frozen yogurt.

“My mother is a control freak. I know she wants to help, but I don’t want this big, over the top wedding that I _know_ she wants. Oikawa-san isn’t into this type of thing, so I can’t really ask him either. And my father is probably wandering around Italy as we speak, so he’s out too,” Akaashi comments and Bokuto’s eyes widen.

“Italy? Is your dad a foreigner?”

“No, he just loves to travel. I mean, it helps for his business, but he’s barely in the office,” Akaashi says with a little laugh. Bokuto grins.

“He sounds like a cool guy. What business is he in?”

“Music,” Akaashi says simply and Bokuto nods his head again. “. . .It really leaves only one other person to help me,” Akaashi mutters and Bokuto blinks.

“Sarukui?”

Akaashi laughs. It’s strange how free he feels to laugh around Bokuto compared to his friends that he’s known since childhood. “No, _you_. You know a lot about wedding stuff and I was hoping if maybe you could help me plan the wedding,” Akaashi says and Bokuto crosses his arms.

“Me? I-I don’t know. I mean, what do I know about romance and love, right?”

“Please?” Akaashi asks, turning his eyes towards Bokuto. They’re so soft and gentle and they’re sparkling. It looks like Akaashi has emeralds in his eyes and Bokuto wants to stare into them for all eternity. “I don’t know what I’m doing and I know that it might be a little bit awkward for you, but you know a lot more than I do,” Akaashi says and gives a weak smile. “I’m worried that I might spend 50,000 yen for a half-eaten wedding cake,” he jokes.

Bokuto bites his lower lip and looks down at Akaashi’s hands cradling his cup of frozen yogurt. “. . .It. . .I can probably help after our lessons with Yaku and Lev. . .and throughout the week too-” Akaashi places the cup of yogurt in a secure spot and then wraps his arms around Bokuto in a tight hug.

“Thank you,” he says into the muscle of Bokuto’s neck and Bokuto wraps his arms around Akaashi awkwardly, his nose in Akaashi’s curls. Ever, _ever_ so subtly, he takes a gentle smell.

 _He smells so nice_ , Bokuto thinks, mind growing hazy. His hair is so soft and Akaashi smells so _sweet_. He lets his eyes fall closed and the small time they hug feels like hours in Bokuto’s mind. When Akaashi pulls away, Bokuto wants to real him back in. He wants to hold Akaashi firm and tight against him so he could drown in Akaashi’s smell and Akaashi’s touch and _Akaashi_ -

Bokuto then sits up abruptly and immediately places his hands over his lap. _Not now, not here!_

“I’ll see you tomorrow morning, Bokuto-san. Thank you once again,” Akaashi says and Bokuto nods his head, startled.

“Y-Yeah! Sure! Anything for my kohai!” Bokuto screeches. Akaashi thankfully doesn’t notice that Bokuto’s squirming uncomfortably in his seat and that his face is an alarming shade of red. He takes his yogurt cup and gets out of the car, waving goodbye to Bokuto before he enters his apartment building. Bokuto watches him go, then groans to himself and rests his head against the wheel. Well, he’ll have to take care of this little problem when he gets home-

No! He can’t do that! That’s wrong! Akaashi’s getting married! He’s getting engaged and he’s _only_ his friend! Friends don’t. . .Bokuto’s mind can’t even think about what’s going on in his pants and associate it to someone as kind and beautiful and _totally-not-meat-whacking-material_ as Akaashi! He’s just a friend! He’s not going to think about his smell or how soft he feels under Bokuto’s touch or how he likes hearing _Akaashi’s voice and how his lips feel against his skin-_

“Stop it! Shut up!” Bokuto screams to his thoughts and puts the car in drive, peeling away from the curb and flying down the streets as if he can somehow escape those dirty thoughts about the piano player and leave them far behind.

* * *

 

“Let me tell you, I’ve seen many couples come through these doors but _you two_ ,” Ukai Keishin comments with a grin, “You two _really_ look like you can make it together.”

Bokuto gives what he believes is the third awkward laugh he’s had today while Akaashi smiles politely next to him. People don’t _always_ do wedding things as a couple, do they? Are friends not allowed to be a part of the planning or something? After their joint practice with the kids and after Akaashi’s lesson with Tsukishima, they embarked on their little wedding plan day. They’ve been to the suit store, checked out the venue for the wedding to take place and now are currently looking into the wedding portraits. And at each place, Akaashi and Bokuto have been mistaken as the happy couple to be wed.

Akaashi seems to be taking in in stride, but it makes Bokuto all fidgety and uncomfortable and a blubbering mess when he tries to explain over and over again that Akaashi is engaged to someone else and he’s just offering a friendly hand. To his frustration, people either accept his answer with a teasing grin or just don’t believe him and still refers to them as a couple. Maybe he should call and ask if Kuroo or Yukie can come tag along. No one is going to believe that they’ll be a couple then!

. . .Unless they still do.

“Actually, we’re not the ones getting married. He’s my brother,” Akaashi comments out of the blue and it startles Bokuto just as he himself was about to deny that they’re getting married and he’s his fiancé. Ukai nods his head in understanding and scratches his chin.

“Oh, so that’s what it is. I sensed a closeness, but yeah, that makes sense now,” Ukai says. Akaashi looks at Bokuto and tilts his head knowingly.

“My big brother has to make sure that his dearest little brother gets the perfect photos for his wedding, so do you think you can do it at the price he offered?” Akaashi asks and Ukai nods his head while Bokuto continues to gape like a confused fish.

“Sure! I’m an older brother myself, so I know how it feels to want to makes sure everything’s taken care of for your younger sibling,” Ukai says and sticks a hand out for Bokuto to shake. Bokuto shakes it, but looks over at Akaashi still confused as hell. Akaashi smiles and gently taps his knuckles against Bokuto’s head.

“Eh, onii-chan, you’re blanking out like you used to do when we were little,” Akaashi says playfully and looks to Ukai. “That’s why I’m the responsible one,” he tells the photographer. Bokuto snaps out of it and then throws an arm around Akaashi and ruffles up his soft curls.

“I’m not blanking out! You need to respect your elders more!” Bokuto chides and Akaashi laughs, wriggling out of Bokuto’s hold. They both stand and shake Ukai’s hand once more, before they exit out of his studio and walk towards the front of the building, playfully bumping into each other on the way.

“You caught me off guard,” Bokuto says and Akaashi hums.

“I figured he might think we were a couple like all the others. And I didn’t want you getting agitated like you did with the others either, so I thought of that story on the spot. It worked nicely,” Akaashi comments rather methodically.

“How come I can’t be the cute, dear baby brother?” Bokuto asks and Akaashi raises an eyebrow.

“You’re too old looking, Bokuto-san.”

“I’m only one year older than you anyways! Oh! Hey, when we go try out wedding cakes, can I say I’m your long lost brother separated at birth and we’re planning your wedding as a way to bond and make up for years lost?” Bokuto blabs and Akaashi shakes his head.

“That seems like an unnecessarily complicated story, Bokuto-san, but if you want.”

“How about wearing costumes?”

“Why costumes?”

“I don’t know. Maybe it’ll help us get into character more,” Bokuto says and Akaashi sighs, walking out the door that Bokuto holds open for him.

“Let’s focus on getting the stuff planned all out for the wedding first before we plan on our alter personas,” Akaashi says and looks over his shoulder at Bokuto. “Maybe we can discuss codenames over ice cream after we pick out the cake.”

Bokuto beams.

* * *

_To my little Duckling,_

_I can’t believe how fast time is flying! You’re going to be wed soon and I’m going to be the sad old man crying as he gives away his little boy. I’ll probably cry as much as I did when I married your mother, but this time it’ll be tears of joy. I promise I’ll be back home for your wedding after I travel to the States. Hope you enjoy the photos as always and I hope all the planning for your wedding is coming along perfectly._

_All my love,_

_Papa_

“Well at least there’s not a nasty post-statement like last time,” Akaashi murmurs under his breath, examining the photos of Italy’s busy streets and the canals. Ai doesn’t hear him, entirely focused on looking over Akaashi’s current selection of suits and dresses as well as the menu that he’s placed in a scrapbook all about his wedding.

“These are. . .nice. . .I’m glad you inherited your taste from me and not your father. If you did, I can’t even imagine what a _sham_ of a wedding that would have been,” she says as she flips the page.

“Actually, Bokuto-san has been helping me out in making the choices. We’re going to work on music and he knows a guy that can take us to the airport in a limo,” Akaashi says with a small smile. Everything is coming along _so_ easy now that someone like Bokuto is helping him. Akaashi does wish at times that he could be sharing this experience with his actual fiancé, but getting the chance to spend time with Bokuto almost feels like a fair trade off.

. . .Which Akaashi isn’t quite sure why he feels like that.

“Bokuto-san. . .the man-child? You’ve been spending a lot of time lately with him, haven’t you?” Ai interrogates. Akaashi looks up at his mother and into her questioning eyes that seem to be growing dark with annoyance.

“So what if I am? He’s helping me with my wedding so it seems _obvious_ that I’d be spending more time with him,” Akaashi bites back and goes back to look at the pictures in a huff. “I’m marrying Souichi. Why is everyone else trying to claim otherwise?”

Ai goes back to look at the book. “Well good. I’m just checking that you’re not losing sight of the goal here. Souichi is a prime choice for you. He’s handsome, he’s intelligent, he has a well-paying career to support you _and_ children if you decide to have them. Compared to your _other_ friend – what does he do again? Work at a fast food place?”

“He’s a drum instructor at the music studio and he’s _very_ talented. He can write music, he’s kind and strong and I think he would be a better father than Souichi,” Akaashi says, then flares with heat when he realizes what just said. Ai looks at him with a raised eyebrow and Akaashi places the photos on the coffee table with shaky hands. “E-Excuse me, I promised Suga-san I would call him to let him know about the suits-”

“Keiji, what’s going on between you and that drum instructor?”

“ _Nothing_. _Why_ does everyone think that there’s something going on between us when there _isn’t?_ ” Akaashi spits. He’s getting frustrated and also. . .nervous. But why?

“Nothing, you say? You were talking very passionately about him just a few seconds ago and you tell me there _isn’t_ anything going on between you two?”

“There isn’t,” Akaashi says, heart beating frantically. He wants this conversation to end, he’s starting to feel a little bit dizzy. His mother glares him down for a few seconds of silence and Akaashi’s head is throbbing. His skin feels uncomfortably warm and his throat is extremely dry. Ai stands up and walks over to him, gently cupping her son’s face and sighing through her nose.

“Ok. I believe you,” she says softly, rubbing her thumb over his cheekbone. “Keiji, I just want what’s best for you. Souichi is. . .security. He has everything and more to give you exactly the kind of life you deserve, only the finest. And who knows, you might be wrong about him and fatherhood. You’re going to have a happy and comfortable life with him, and I just don’t want you throwing it all away on some little. . . _thing_ you have for that drum instructor. . .ok?”

“. . .Ok, Mother,” Akaashi murmurs and Ai smiles. She kisses the crown of his head and sighs.

“Well, I should head back home before it gets too late. Maybe you should invite Souichi over so he can see what you’ve been planning so far,” she says and walks over to the genkan to grab her heels. Akaashi bites the inside of his cheek and grips his fists.

“Um. . .Mother?” he calls out and she turns to look at him. Akaashi focuses his attention on the ceiling fan spinning round and round, rocking back and forth on his heels. “I don’t want Bokuto-san and the others to perform at my wedding for music since I want them as guests. . .so maybe can you help me find some alternative for music-”

“Oh! I know _exactly_ who to call! He’s played all over the world and any performance by him is a _showstopper_. Oh, Keiji, your guests are going to be filled with such _jealousy_ when they find out who’s going to perform at your wedding! Don’t you _dare_ tell your father because I don’t want him trying to one-up me,” Ai growls. Akaashi can literally see the hungry glint in her eyes and sighs.

“Mother, it’s not a competition-”

“Now I _really_ have to hurry home! I’ll call you tomorrow! Oh, we’re going to need an entire _orchestra_ , it’ll be so _perfect_!” Ai laughs as she opens the door.

“We _really_ don’t-” The door closes shut before Akaashi can even finish telling his mother to not go overboard. He stands in his living room and sighs before he crashes on his couch and pulls a pillow to his chest.

He thinks about Bokuto and he thinks about his fiancé. He compares how fast Souichi can make his heart race to how tight his insides squeeze when Bokuto makes him smile. He thinks and makes his comparisons and makes mental lists, pros and cons. He doesn’t deny that Bokuto is handsome; it’s different from Souichi’s clean-cut and professional kind of handsome and moreso on the exciting and wild type that just gets your heart racing. Bokuto is kind and so full of love, while Souichi is reserved and proper. He’s known Souichi for so long and he’s only known Bokuto for a couple of months. He feels happy with Souichi and he feels happy with Bokuto.

In the end, Akaashi is nowhere close to understanding why he felt so sick when his mother asked what was going on between them. He doesn’t understand why he gets so flustered or defensive when Koushi teases him. He doesn’t understand what is it about Bokuto that makes him so. . . _confused_.

He just knows that he has a _really_ bad headache.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haikyuu and johzenji party boys are the only thing that keeps me alive during winter term and cALCULUS


	6. maybe i'm dreaming too

“They’re getting so much better,” Akaashi says to Bokuto and Bokuto nods his head in agreement. Both instructors are standing to the side, watching Yaku and Lev play through the song for the showcase set at a slow tempo. Yaku misses a few notes here and there and Lev gets off tempo from time to time, but it sounds _so much better_ than when they started. Bokuto sees how much fun Yaku is having from the smile on the boy’s lips, so that fills him up with happiness on its own.

“They’re our kids, of _course_ they’re going to be great!” Bokuto boasts proudly and looks over at Akaashi. “These kids here are great. That’s why I wanted a couple of them to play at my wedding. They sounded good, right? You know, before the whole _thing_ happened?”

“Yeah, they were good,” Akaashi muses. “But my mother is taking care of the music already, so we’ll just have to enjoy them at the showcase.”

“Man, it’s going to just be two more weeks for you to be married,” Bokuto says with a sigh. His tone sounds dejected to his ears, so he tries to perk up with his next question. “Do we have everything planned?”

“We have the venue for the reception and the wedding and the priest, suit and dress rentals, flowers, the catering, music, cake, pictures, the honeymoon planned. . .and you said you found a limo service, right?” Akaashi asks and Bokuto nods his head.

“Right, we’ll check him out after your lesson with Tsukki,” Bokuto grins as Lev finishes up the song with a drum roll and a gentle tap to the crash cymbal. Akaashi and Bokuto give their applause and Lev begins to shout in earnest.

“That was awesome! We were so good, Yaku-san! You sounded so pretty!” Lev gushes loudly from his drumset. Bokuto can see Yaku’s ears are turning pink from the praise, the boy hunching over the piano keys to hide his surely growing red face. He smiles and gives Lev a thumbs up.

“You kept tempo up for most of the time, but we still need to practice a little bit more connecting the bridge and the chorus!” Bokuto calls out and Lev nods his head eagerly.

“We also need to practice the opening section for you, Yaku-san,” Akaashi adds and Yaku nods his head in understanding. The instructors give their students another round of applause and Lev shoots up from his stool to grab his bag as Yaku moves to gather his sheet music. Lev bounds to his teacher in big, long strides, meeting Bokuto’s fist with his own.

“See you next week, rock star!” Bokuto says and Lev grins. He turns to Akaashi next and gives the piano instructor a little fist bump as well before he waves happily at Yaku and scurries out the door. Yaku approaches the two and gives both of them a respectful bow.

“I’ll see you next week, Mori-chan,” Akaashi says with a smile so kind. He’s not even smiling at him and yet, Bokuto feels flutters in his chest. He gives an awkward cough and doesn’t even realize that Yaku has said something to him.

“Huh, what was that?” Bokuto asks and Yaku averts his eyes to the floor, scuffing the toe of his shoe against the purple carpet.

“I changed my mind,” Yaku repeats and Bokuto cocks his head to the side.

“Changed it from what to what?”

“. . .I like rock stars now,” Yaku murmurs, dusting of pink in his cheeks. Bokuto blinks, then beams big and gives him a thumbs up.

“Great! Cause you are hereby forth a rock star, Yaku-kun! You two are going to knock ‘em dead at the showcase! So we’re gonna keep practicing and practicing, right?”

Yaku nods his head and Bokuto raises his fist. “I’ll see you next week too, alright? Rock stars hang together, you know?” Bokuto says and Yaku gently taps his fist against Bokuto’s big one.

(Akaashi also feels flutters in his chest when he sees them interact and he too goes into an awkward coughing fit.)

Yaku pulls his bag onto his shoulder and leaves the room, Akaashi turning to Bokuto and rocking back and forth on his heels.

“So, do you want to get something to eat first before my lesson with Tsukishima-kun? Or do you have somewhere else to be until we check out the limo services?” Akaashi asks. Bokuto scratches the back of his head.

“Food sounds good. I know a little place not too far away that serves the _best_ ramen ever. Like, there’s no contest, it _is_ the best ramen ever,” Bokuto says and Akaashi hides his laugh behind his hand.

“If you say so, Bokuto-san. Shall we?”

Bokuto bows low and dignified. “We shall!” he shouts in triumph and Akaashi holds back his laughter. Both of them exit the studio and walk side by side down the hall and to the lobby. Bokuto and Akaashi both say goodbye to Sarukui behind the desk and both try to ignore the inquisitive look he gives them as they walk out the door.

* * *

 

The little shop that serves the ‘best ramen ever’ is on the corner of Ikejiri’s flower shop and just from the scent alone, Akaashi figures that the drum instructor might be correct on his claim. They pull up a seat next to the window and place their orders, then Akaashi gets his bag and begins to search through it.

He eventually pulls out a small plastic box with a pearl white masquerade mask perched on a golden stand, a small little scroll nestled at the base of the stand and surrounded by golden fabric. “By the way, here is your official invitation,” Akaashi says, handing the plastic box to Bokuto. He takes it very gently into his hands and admires it in his grasp.

“This is pretty nice. . .I thought you sent the invitations out already though.”

“I did. My mother took it upon herself to have those made and sent out too,” Akaashi says with a sigh. “At least she didn’t make a lot. I think it’s moreso for her to give out to people she wants to attend and be filled with envy over how _extravagant_ the wedding is going to be,” Akaashi mutters.

Bokuto gives a gentle laugh. “She really likes weddings, huh?”

“Not at all. She just likes to show me off like I’m some trophy or something. I just let her do _one thing_ and she’s already trying to take over everything else,” Akaashi groans. Bokuto hums, then allows the waitress to deliver their drinks and he grabs his straw.

“Your dad still in Italy? What about him?”

“He’s in America now. And he likes to rile her up so I don’t want him giving his input either,” Akaashi says, stirring around the ice cubes in his glass of water. “My parents have always been like that, constantly at each other’s throat and backhanded comments left and right. I don’t even know why they’re still married when he’s never really around and she doesn’t really seem to care if he is.”

“Love works in mysterious ways. I mean, you’re all grown up now so it’s not like they’re staying together for you. I bet they love each other a whole lot, but just have a funny way of showing it,” Bokuto explains and Akaashi rests his chin in the palm of his hands.

“Well what about your parents? What’s their marriage like?” Akaashi asks and Bokuto sighs, his smile drooping a bit.

“Well. . .my parents had a really happy marriage. My dad was in love with her since they were teenagers and he did everything he can for her. He wrote her poetry, sang to her, bought her anything she wanted. When they got married, he was over the moon. And when I was born, he always told me that he was the happiest man alive because he had the woman he loved and a child of their own. They were happy. . .”

“. . .What happened then?” Akaashi asks quietly and Bokuto rubs his face, eyes growing puffy.

“He, uh, he passed away. Got into a car accident when he went to go and get some groceries for my mom. I was about eight years old,” Bokuto says, his voice cracking momentarily. Akaashi bites his lower lip.

“I’m so sorry-”

“It’s alright,” Bokuto interjects. “I knew he loved me and my mom and I know he’s watching over us still. He’s the reason I wanted to go into music and songwriting and teaching kids. And he’s the reason why I want to get married,” Bokuto says.

He looks down at his left hand, his engagement ring long gone and his fingers naked. “My mom didn’t marry anyone after that, because he loved her so much that no one else could compare. I. . .I want to love someone like that. I want someone to love _me_ like that. My father was a great man and he loved with every bit of his body. So I want to do the same,” Bokuto says softly.

Akaashi’s hand gently moves over Bokuto’s left hand and holds it. It’s soft and timid, warm and gentle. Bokuto notes again that Akaashi’s hand fits so prettily in his palm, like it is always meant to be there to be gently squeezed by Bokuto’s hand.

“You will. And they’ll be the luckiest person in the world to get to love and be loved by someone like you, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi says in a rasp. His thumb moves gently over the back of Bokuto’s hand and Bokuto watches it closely.

They stay like that, hands interlinked, until their soup arrives. Akaashi pulls away and Bokuto’s hand feels cold. Akaashi smiles as he breathes in the scent of the broth and the noodles, taking his chopsticks and begins to dig in. Bokuto smiles at him, then glances at the fancy invitation by window.

Just two more weeks. . .

* * *

“I don’t think this is really necessary,” Azumane Asahi says for the fifth time, but his voice is drowned out by his boyfriend screaming loudly that Tanaka Ryuunosuke has only ten more minutes to complete this ‘driving test’. Akaashi has to agree with him, watching as Tanaka drives a sleek black limo haphazardly around cones and towards two mannequins he _supposes_ represent himself and Souichi.

“Of course it’s necessary! His fiancé and him are depending on Ryuu to get them to the airport quickly and safely! So he has to see what Ryuu would do under such a strict time limit!” Nishinoya Yuu counters before going back to cheering his friend on. Asahi sighs for the fifth time and Akaashi watches as a helpless cone flies up into the air from a sharp turn and the limo screeches in front of the mannequins.

“He’s the only limo driver that will do it on such short notice, so of _course_ he has the job,” Akaashi says as if it makes a difference. He watches worriedly as Tanaka leaps out of his limo, runs around and picks up one mannequin to throw in the backseat. He grabs the other taller one and tosses it in the back with as much care as one would throw a bag of garbage out on the curb. The mannequin’s head comes off and is spinning around next to a cone, but Tanaka doesn’t seem to notice it.

“Yeah, but its pretty fun messing with him,” Bokuto says cheekily and joins Nishinoya in screaming for Tanaka like they’re at the races. Tanaka squishes two more cones as he swerves left and right around the others. Akaashi doesn’t even want to _think_ about the state the mannequins are in right now from all that reckless driving. Their flight doesn’t even leave that soon after the reception, so they _don’t_ need to be in such a rush.

Tanaka stops with a screeching halt in front of them and Akaashi can literally smell the rubber of the tires burning. Tanaka jumps out the limo, bowtie a mess and panting heavily.

“What’s my time?!” he yells and Nishinoya checks the stopwatch.

“Woah! That’s a new personal best!” Nishinoya screeches and Tanaka screams. Akaashi didn’t even blink before he realizes that Tanaka’s nice button shirt is now stripped off of him and is being twirled around by the limo driver himself.

“Yuu, he hit three cones. Those could have been guests at his wedding or innocent bystanders at the airport,” Asahi says worriedly.

“Plus, I think my fiancé’s head came off,” Akaashi adds on. Nishinoya shrugs and places hands on his hips.

“Yeah, but they _weren’t_ people. They were cones!” he states. The conversation is over with.

Bokuto jumps in to scream at how fast Tanaka was going and to beg him to get behind the wheel. Nishinoya and Tanaka are still screeching in victory over Tanaka’s best time and Asahi gives Akaashi a sorry smile.

“I feel like I should apologize to you for them,” he says and Akaashi shakes his head.

“It’s alright, Azumane-san,” Akaashi says, looking back over at the three. Tanaka is now showing off the new interior of the limo to Bokuto and Nishinoya, the two ‘oohing’ and ‘ahhing’ at such splendor. “Your boyfriend is very lively, isn’t he?”

Asahi chuckles to himself. “He is, but I love him anyways. He brings out the best in me,” he says with a smile that grows fonder the longer he watches Nishinoya laugh and fool around with friends.

“Have you two thought about marriage?” Akaashi asks and Asahi shrugs.

“We’ve talked about it, but we both agree that marriage is a _big_ step. It wouldn’t be right for only one of us to be okay with it and the other person isn’t ready,” Asahi says and glances over at the piano instructor. “What about you?”

Akaashi blinks, momentarily startled. “Huh? Well, yeah, I’m ready. I’ve got the cake and the catering and I suppose now, a limo driver-”

“That’s all stuff for the wedding though. Are you ready for _marriage?_ ”

“. . .Huh?”

Asahi smiles. “The wedding and the honeymoon will come and go. But marriage is for life, till death do you part. I’m asking if you’re ready to become your fiancé’s _husband_ , till death do you part?”

Akaashi stares, confused. He opens his mouth to give a response, but no words come out. Is he ready to become Souichi’s _husband_? That’s right. . .Akaashi is ready to be married. . .but is he ready to become Souichi’s husband? To move again to live with Souichi? To have kids with Souichi? To grow old with Souichi? Is Akaashi ready for all of _that?_

The car horn blaring shakes him out of his thoughts and spooks Asahi enough for the large man to jump. Bokuto sticks his head out the window, grinning big at Akaashi.

“Hey! Let’s drop you off at your place! Everyone in your apartment building is going to think you’re a celebrity or something!” Bokuto says excitedly. Akaashi blinks, then glances towards Asahi. The taller man doesn’t betray any hint of teasing behind his soft eyes or gentle smile. No, what he just said was a genuine question about Akaashi’s feelings. And yet, Akaashi can’t bring himself to answer it. At least, not right now with all these questions swimming around in his head.

“. . .I’ll get back to you on that, Azumane-san,” Akaashi finally says, getting into the limo as Bokuto gets out and holds the door open for him.

* * *

 

“Aw man, Akaashi-san is such a nice guy! A little on the quiet side, but super nice! Usually, all those rich people are nothing but snobs!” Nishinoya boasts loudly. Asahi smiles next to his boyfriend, but checks his ears that are currently ringing from Nishinoya’s loud voice echoing around the interior of the limo.

Bokuto nods in agreement, turning around the soda can in his hands. “Yeah, he’s really nice,” he murmurs. Bokuto knows Akaashi is also really smart, really talented, really gentle with hugs and _really_ pretty too, but he doesn’t speak up about those attributes just yet. Not until Nishinoya says it first so he can agree and _not_ feel a strange sensation bubbling in his stomach and his chest.

“When’s the wedding?” Asahi asks and Bokuto takes a quick sip of his drink.

“Two weeks from now. Tanaka-san, make sure you’re not late. I want Akaashi to get to the airport on time,” Bokuto says. Tanaka turns back to give Bokuto a thumbs up and a toothy grin. He also runs through a red light that thankfully no other cars were entering the intersection from the opposite direction.

“Of course! I’m the best limo driver in town!” Tanaka boasts proudly.

Bokuto nods his head and Nishinoya points over in the corner to Bokuto’s side. “Oh, hey, don’t forget your jacket when we drop you off,” Nishinoya points out. Bokuto follows the direction the finger is pointing in and sees that there’s a black jacket folded neatly and in the empty seat next to him. It blends in so well with the leather seats of the limo that Bokuto almost didn’t realize it was there.

He picks it up in his hands, cradling it gently in his grasp.

“This is Akaashi’s jacket,” he says and Nishinoya raises an eyebrow.

“How do you know?”

“Remember? He took it off when we were passing Ikejiri’s because he said ‘it isn’t jacket weather anymore’,” Bokuto recounts. He can see Akaashi now, gently pulling the jacket off of him and folding it up in his lap to place in an empty seat, before he went back to looking out the window with such _poise_ and _elegance_ and-

“You _do_ have a crush on him!” Nishinoya blurts out and it startles Bokuto from his line of thought.

“W-Wha-No I don’t! Jeez, Noya-san, not you too,” Bokuto groans in defeat. Nishinoya rests his head on Asahi’s bicep, grinning like a madman.

“Come on~ It’s obvious how you look at him that you have a crush on him! What’s the problem? He’s cute so it makes sense that you have a crush on him!” Nishinoya declares without any ounce of shame and then leans up to peck Asahi on his cheek. “But not as cute as Asahi when he gets all flustered!” he adds on. Asahi proceeds to get flustered and Nishinoya begins to fawn over how cute his boyfriend is getting.

Bokuto watches the two with his cheeks feeling warm. He holds the jacket in his tense hands and he tries not to think too hard about the feelings strangling his throat.

* * *

 

“I didn’t know your wedding was a masquerade,” Koushi comments, handing the invitation to Chikara. The baby then proceeds to try and eat the invitation, gnawing on the side of the plastic box and squishing it with chubby little hands. Akaashi thinks that if his mother saw this, she’d have a heartattack.

“It’s not. At least, I don’t plan on it being one,” Akaashi says. Oikawa glances up from looking at the suit Akaashi gave him for the wedding, an eyebrow quirked in curiosity.

“Then why the mask invitation?”

“Just because it looks fancy and elegant or whatever. I don’t care.”

Oikawa blinks and then smirks. “Someone’s a little grouchy. Upset that you’re not going to be enjoying the single life with me anymore?” Oikawa asks and Akaashi sighs. Honestly, he doesn’t understand why he’s starting to feel so. . .on _edge_. The closer the wedding gets, the more Akaashi feels confused and upset and annoyed and generally _not_ a happy groom-to-be. Asahi’s question yesterday just made his mind more rattled on the subject than ever.

He doesn’t know why he feels so grouchy. But he wishes that he’d get back to normal quick.

“It’s going to be so exciting, I’m so happy for you,” Koushi says, pulling Chikara into his lap as the child continues to play with the invitation. “Daichi was so nervous on our wedding day, I almost thought he was going to pass out during our vows,” Koushi remembers with a little laugh. “But everything went perfectly, down to the kiss.”

Akaashi sorts through some sheet music and looks over his notes for Yaku and Tsukishima’s lesson. “I don’t think you can really mess up on the kiss, Suga-san,” Akaashi says.

“What do you mean? That’s your first kiss as a married couple so of _course_ it has to be special,” Oikawa says. “You mean you didn’t put any thought into it?”

“No, and I didn’t think _you_ would either,” Akaashi says, looking over at the brunet with exhaustion in his eyes. Oikawa places his suit down next to Koushi’s and leans forward, looking at Akaashi with wide eyes.

“How are you planning to kiss him?” Oikawa questions. Akaashi feels his face warm in embarrassment, but feels like he should just humor Oikawa for now if he ever wants to hear the end of this conversation.

“Like I normally do? . . .I mean, I’m going to kiss him appropriately. My parents are going to be there along with our friends and I don’t want to kiss him like I’m trying to suck his face off if that’s what you’re getting at,” Akaashi says and Oikawa grins.

“Kei-chan, that’s so prudish! You have to have a _little_ tongue in there! Otherwise you’re not going to enjoy it!” Oikawa whines and turns to Koushi. “Kou-chan, you had some tongue in your kiss, right?”

Koushi hums. “Well, yeah. But it wasn’t like a _porno_ kiss or something. That’s for the honeymoon.”

“I _really_ didn’t need to hear that,” Akaashi quips.

“ _Point is_ , do you really want a tight-lipped, short kiss and then it’s over?” Oikawa asks and Akaashi sighs, turning to face his friend and cross his arms defiantly.

“I guess. . .short, sweet, _a little_ tongue. Like. . .’wholesome’ use of tongue.”

Oikawa snorts. “And what does _that_ mean?” he asks. Akaashi readies himself to answer, but then there is a gentle knock at his front door that cuts off his response. Akaashi crosses over to the genkan and opens the door, Bokuto standing in the doorway with his jacket in his hands. Akaashi feels his chest go warm and a smile goes over his lips in an instant. Bokuto smiles back with as much earnest.

“Hi,” Bokuto starts with a goofy little grin and rosy red cheeks.

“Hi,” Akaashi says, quiet and shy. He gestures for Bokuto to come in and he does, toeing off his shoes and stepping into the living room. He pauses when he sees Oikawa and then Koushi, and his eyes brighten when he spots Chikara in Koushi’s lap.

“Oh! Hey! Chika-chan!” Bokuto cries out and the baby looks up at him. Chikara chirps in happiness and waves his arms up and down, bouncing and wriggling in Koushi’s hold. Bokuto rushes over and gets to his knees, looking up into Koushi’s curious eyes. “Ah, are you his dad?”

“Yeah. So _you’re_ the famous Bokuto that I’ve heard so much about,” Koushi says. He looks at Akaashi, winks and gives a thumbs up. Akaashi scowls.

Chikara reaches out to play with Bokuto’s hair, Koushi smiling at how easily his son has taken to Bokuto. “Thank you for helping Akaashi watch him, I really appreciate it,” Koushi says. Bokuto grins, allowing Chikara to tangle little fists in his hair and mess it up.

“No problem! I love kids, so if you ever need a night to yourself and your husband, me and Akaashi can babysit!” Bokuto offers eagerly. He gently pulls Chikara’s hands out of his hair and tries to fix it back to its original style, before he turns to Akaashi and holds out the jacket. “Uh, you forgot your jacket in the limo yesterday,” Bokuto says.

Akaashi takes it and places it on the couch. “Thank you, Bokuto-san,” he replies and Bokuto grins, sheepishly rubbing the back of his head.

“No problem! Well, I’ll let you three get back to whatever you were doing-”

“Hey, wait!” Koushi calls out, gently placing Chikara down to play with his toys. He gets up and walks over to Bokuto, rubbing his chin and looking at Bokuto with eyes Akaashi can only describe as _trouble_. “Maybe he can help us with our little dilemma.”

“Dilemma? What, did something happen with the wedding?” Bokuto asks worriedly. Oikawa joins the little huddle and shrugs.

“Sort of. We were discussing the _perfect_ wedding kiss. Me and Kou-chan say that it’s perfectly okay to have tongue in the kiss and Kei-chan wants to be a prude and have a miserable, boring kiss instead,” Oikawa says with a sad sigh.

Akaashi huffs. “I _didn’t_ say that. I just think that if I’m going to kiss Souichi in front of my mother and father, it should be tasteful,” Akaashi says defensively. Bokuto nods his head in agreement, rubbing his chin.

“Yeah, that sounds reasonable.”

“Like, have a ‘wholesome’ use of tongue,” Akaashi further explains and Bokuto further agrees. Oikawa crosses his arms.

“Show me this ‘wholesome’ use of tongue. What does that even look like?” Oikawa asks and Akaashi blinks. He pauses, then glances around at Bokuto and Koushi and Oikawa all watching him for his next move. Then, he slowly leans forward towards Oikawa with his lips puckering up unsure. Oikawa laughs and waves him off. “Not on me! I mean, I _know_ I’m kissable and all-”

“How about on him?” Koushi suggests and points at Bokuto. Akaashi’s eyes widen in shock and Bokuto goes pale, both of them staring at Koushi as if he’s grown a second head that’s also giving them a teasingly innocent smile. Akaashi looks over at Bokuto and Bokuto glances at him, but both turn away immediately when they lock onto the others’ eyes.

“W-Why not on you?” Akaashi stammers and Koushi raises his left hand, wedding band prominent on his finger and glistening bright.

“You can’t ask me to kiss someone else when I’m happily married, can you? Plus, I want to see what you meant too,” Koushi says. Akaashi wants to hiss ‘ _why are you **doing this**?’_. Why is he feeling so nervous and why does he feel like he’s standing too close to Bokuto now? His mind is tricking him into believing he can feel Bokuto’s heat radiating from his body and that nice, rustic smell is coming from Bokuto too. He looks at Bokuto again and tries not to be swallowed up by those golden amber eyes looking at him with such _intensity_.

“I. . .we don’t. . .”

“It’s for science, right?” Bokuto blurts out, face red. The three men blink confused as Bokuto twiddle his fingers. “I mean, it’s like we’re testing what is the _perfect_ wedding kiss, right? Purely science, nothing personal,” Bokuto rambles. His face is so red and Akaashi isn’t sure if the abnormal fast heartbeat he hears belongs to Bokuto or is his own.

Bokuto turns to Akaashi and licks his dry lips. Akaashi twitches in his spot. “That’s alright. . .right?”

Akaashi nods his head and swallows a dry lump in his throat. His mind goes blank at trying to come up with another reason to protest. “Yeah. . .for science,” he murmurs.

Oikawa claps his hands excitedly. “Okay! So,” Oikawa begins and clears his throat. Koushi gently positions Bokuto so he’s facing Akaashi and Akaashi is facing Bokuto. His heart is beating so fast and he’s trembling in his spot. Akaashi is finding it hard just to look into Bokuto’s eyes. Bokuto cracks a nervous grin and takes Akaashi’s hands into his own for extra measure. They’re big and warm, callouses on the fingertips and trembling just as much as Akaashi’s.

“I now pronounce you wed. You may kiss your husband,” Oikawa states and Akaashi sucks in a bit of air.

He and Bokuto both give each other a nervous laugh and smile, trying to ease the tension away. Akaashi leans in forward and closes his eyes when he feels Bokuto’s nose accidentally brush against his own as Bokuto goes downwards. He’s nervous, he’s scared, he’s. . .feeling strange. Strangely. . .happy. . .

Bokuto’s lips gently press against his, warm and pilant.

Time stops moving.

They kiss each other slowly and unsure, like the other one is about to break. Akaashi feels lightheaded and like all the butterflies in his stomach have been set free to flutter in his chest and his head. Bokuto. . .is so gentle. He kisses Akaashi like he wants to savor every little touch and taste of him. Akaashi’s hand moves to clutch Bokuto’s bicep while the other clings his shoulder, feeling like he needs something to keep his body anchored while his mind flies to cloud nine.

They give a few slips of tongue here and there, subtle and very quick. Bokuto’s teeth also accidentally scrape against Akaashi’s lower lip a few times as well. He tastes of sticky honey buns from a cheap convenience store and the hint of hastily chewed bubble gum lingers on Bokuto’s tongue. Yet. . .Akaashi doesn’t want it to end. It feels like they’ve been kissing for hours instead of a few seconds and he _doesn’t want it to end_. But the little bit of rationality in his head that hasn’t been swallowed up by how good it feels when Bokuto is kissing him or the comparisons of Souichi’s kiss vs. Bokuto’s kiss, urges him to pull away.

Akaashi finally does so. Their lips make a little ‘pop’ sound when they do.

Bokuto is staring into Akaashi’s eyes, unmoving and unreadable expression on his face. His hands have somehow moved down to hold Akaashi by his waist and the small of his back. Akaashi stares back up at him, dazed and confused. He hears someone talking, but he isn’t quite listening. Neither is Bokuto, since he seems just as dazed. But then, ever so slowly, a smile begins to form on Bokuto’s face. Akaashi smiles back, his cheeks warm.

Someone taps his shoulder and he jumps, startled. He completely forgot that Koushi and Oikawa are standing there _watching them_ and Akaashi feels his cheeks heating with embarrassment instead. Koushi is smiling as well, though his smile is like he’s just discovered a juicy little secret and his eyes keep darting back and forth between Akaashi and Bokuto.

Oikawa doesn’t seem to notice the weird sexual tension and shakes Akaashi’s shoulder. “Kei-chan, that was so _amazing_. You should _definitely_ do that at the wedding,” Oikawa says and Akaashi clears his throat.

“Uh, right,” he begins, trying to form a comprehensive sentence but his brain is still screaming about how good of a kisser Bokuto is and his _lips_ and his _tongue_ and how nicely he holds Akaashi up against him – _snap out of it!_ Akaashi looks to Bokuto, who’s still smiling that dumb little smile. “I-er-thank you for. . .the science,” Akaashi phrases miserably. Someone snorts and Akaashi guesses it to be Koushi. Bokuto doesn’t say anything back, he just smiles.

Akaashi’s face feels like it’s on fire and his throat feels dry. He nods his head to no one and then awkwardly stumbles past Koushi and Oikawa towards his kitchen. Chikara, entertained by Akaashi’s funny walk, crawls after him out of curiosity. Koushi chuckles to himself, then turns to Bokuto.

“What do you think, Bokuto-san? That was a good kiss, right?”

Bokuto is staring at the spot Akaashi was standing in and it seems the smile is frozen on his face. Koushi waves a hand in front of Bokuto’s face and taps his shoulder, earning no reaction whatsoever. “Bokuto-san? Hello? Earth to Bokuto!” Koushi shouts and then huffs. He sticks his finger into his mouth, getting the digit nice and wet with saliva, before he pulls it out and sticks it right into Bokuto’s ear.

Oikawa yelps for Bokuto in disgust, but the drum instructor still makes no move. In fact, it just seems like his smile is bigger and his eyes grow more glazed over.

“Huh, this usually works on Daichi,” Koushi says confused.

“I’m surprised you haven’t killed Dai-chan already. Having you for a husband must be quite the blood pressure rising experience, Kou-chan,” Oikawa says and pulls Koushi’s finger out himself. Koushi sticks his tongue out at Oikawa and Oikawa does it back, before he snaps his fingers in front of Bokuto’s face. “Oi! Bokuto-kun!” Oikawa shouts and Bokuto’s head lolls over to look into the brunet’s eyes.

“. . .I gave him his jacket and everything’s in slow motion,” Bokuto finally speaks.

“. . .What?”

There’s a knock at the door and Koushi glances over his shoulder at Akaashi who is currently sticking his head in his kitchen sink to run cold water over his face. “Do you need me to get that for you?” he asks. Akaashi gives a strangled groan and Koushi assumes the piano player said ‘yes’. He moves past Oikawa and Bokuto, crosses the genkan and opens the door, throwing on a nervous smile when he sees who it is.

“Oh, Tatsumi-san!” Koushi greets. Akaashi jolts and splashes water over the counter, looking alarmed as Souichi enters and takes off his shoes. There’s another bouquet of flowers in his grasp, peonies from the looks of it. Akaashi hurries to grab a towel and wipe his face while Chikara begins to splash around in the small puddles Akaashi left behind.

“Sugawara-san, Oikawa-san, nice to see you,” Souichi says politely and notices Bokuto has turned his head to look at him with blank eyes. Souichi gives a grin. “And the ‘love guru’ from the party! What’s up?”

“Hi. I kissed him, but it didn’t mean anything. It was just science. I just gave him his jacket back and time is broken,” Bokuto rambles in a monotone voice. Souichi blinks, understandably confused.

“I thought you didn’t drink and drive,” Souichi comments. Bokuto blinks, then turns and slips on his shoes. He lets himself out of the apartment and gently closes the door shut behind him without saying another word to anyone. Souichi stares at the door, then turns back to look at Oikawa and Koushi. “The hell’s wrong with him? Who did he kiss?” he asks and Koushi twitches in his spot.

“Oh! Um, he, uh-”

“Me! He kissed me!” Oikawa volunteers quickly. Souichi glances over at Oikawa and looks him from head to toe, before he shrugs the concern away and heads to the kitchen. Chikara coos at him when he rounds the corner, splashing the little puddle of water as if it is an offer for Souichi to join him.

“Hey, someone’s baby is making a mess in here,” Souichi calls out. Koushi sighs.

“I’ll get him,” he says and runs over to the kitchen, scooping Chikara up into his arms. He quickly regrets it, since now he feels water soaking into the front of his shirt from his child’s wet onesie. “Chika-chan, you got all wet! Now Papa has to change your clothes _again!_ ” Koushi scolds playfully. Chikara giggles and holds his father’s face with wet hands, not understanding in the slightest. Koushi just kisses his son’s forehead and carries him off to the bathroom as Akaashi comes back into the living room, toweled off and suffering less from his post kiss catatonia.

Souichi scoffs at the puddle still left behind. “No discipline whatsoever,” he murmurs low under his breath. Apparently not too low, because Oikawa throws on a smile that’s laced with contempt.

“It’s just water, Tatsumi-san! It’s not like Chika-chan, a little _baby_ , was purposefully trying to ruin Kei-chan’s kitchen!” Oikawa says, cheerful yet spiting. Akaashi drops the towel on the puddle and mops it up.

“Besides, I made the mess in the first place. I wasn’t feeling well,” Akaashi says, wringing the towel in the sink and placing it off to the side. Souichi places the flowers on the counter and brings a hand to Akaashi’s forehead.

“Hm, you don’t have a fever or anything,” Souichi observes. Yet, Akaashi could still feel his face flushed and a fire burning in his stomach from Bokuto’s kiss. His hands feel clammy and his heart is still beating erratically. He certainly _feels_ sick, but he doesn’t understand why.

Souichi crosses his arms. “So I’m guessing you wouldn’t want to go and have dinner tonight?”

“No. I mean, I – yes I would want to but,” Akaashi’s head is throbbing and he thinks he needs to sit down. Souichi cocks his head to the side, before sighing and rubbing the back of his neck.

“Well, I’ll reschedule then. No point in going out when you’re not feeling well,” Souichi comments. “I need to drop off some papers at my place, but I’ll come back with some soup or something-”

“I-It’s alright. I don’t want to inconvenience you. It’s already a long drive from your home to mine,” Akaashi says. Oikawa, meanwhile, screams in his head that ‘ _he’s your **fiancé** , he’s **supposed** to do something like that!_’.

Souichi sighs and shrugs. “Well, alright then. I’ll call you when I get home,” he says. He leans down and gives a little peck to Akaashi’s lips, still warm from Bokuto’s kiss. Akaashi doesn’t feel a tingle or warmth rising in his chest when Souichi kisses him. He feels numb and lifeless, like Souichi is kissing a mannequin instead of an actual person. But Souichi doesn’t seem to notice how stiff and rigid Akaashi became, giving him that smile that used to make Akaashi weak at the knees but now only makes more confused thoughts about his feelings for his fiancé and Bokuto erupt in his head.

Souichi gives a curt nod to Oikawa, who smiles and rolls his eyes at the exact same time, before he slips on his shoes and leaves the apartment. “Glad you didn’t become a _complete_ doormat this time, Kei-chan,” Oikawa says and then darts over to the piano player with excitement in his eyes. “But tell me! That kiss Bokuto gave you, was it good? It looked like it was _so nice_. I didn’t peg him to be a good kisser but it looked like he knew what he was doing and it looked _nice_.”

Oikawa rambles off questions and Akaashi feels like Bokuto is wrapping arms around his body again to pull him in for another kiss as he begins to think about it once more. What’s going _on_ with him? Why. . .why did he kiss _Bokuto?_ The reasoning seems so _stupid_ now that Akaashi thinks about it and he feels like he was tricked. . .by himself. . .why did he _want_ to kiss Bokuto? Why does he want to kiss Bokuto _again?_ Why does he want to be in Bokuto’s arms and why didn’t he feel any sparks when Souichi kissed him?

“Hey, is he single?”

Akaashi is shaken from his thoughts and looks over at Oikawa. “H-Huh?”

“Bokuto. Is he single? I think I want to go out on a date with him,” Oikawa says with a smile.

Akaashi’s brain erupts with more questions, moreso on the spiting side.

Koushi comes back into the kitchen, bouncing Chikara (now in some dry overalls) gently as his son begins to doze off into a nap. “Tatsumi-san left already?” Koushi asks no one in particular as Akaashi turns to Oikawa with his heart beating madly.

“ _Why_ do you want to go on a date with Bokuto-san?” Akaashi asks, not realizing he practically _hissed_ the question out. Koushi and Oikawa blink, both taken aback.

“What’s going on? What did you do?” Koushi questions Oikawa and Oikawa raises his hands.

“Nothing! I just wanted to know if Bokuto is single! Kou-chan, he looks like he’s a _really_ good kisser. Kei-chan's foot even did the little 'pop' thing!" Oikawa says, popping his own foot up for emphasis. Akaashi flushes scarlet.

"No it didn't!" he protests and Koushi chuckles.

"It actually did. It was like we were watching a couple in a cheesy romance movie have their first kiss," Koushi says with a sly grin. Akaashi curses his body for reacting to Bokuto's kiss like some lovestruck schoolgirl and his mind for thinking so much about Bokuto's lips instead of keeping his damn foot down.

"Plus, Bokuto’s attractive, in a special kind of way. What’s the problem?” Oikawa asks and places hands on his hips. “If Kei-chan doesn’t _want_ me to date him-”

“Why would I not want you to?” Akaashi questions. He huffs and grabs the towel off the sink. “You’re both single and all, makes sense. I just don’t think you’re his type,” Akaashi adds.

“But you’ll fix me up with him, right? Maybe we can all have a couple’s night!” Oikawa offers excitedly. The offer makes Akaashi want to vomit. He then gets upset that he’s so _furious_ about the idea of Oikawa dating Bokuto. Oikawa likes his flings here and there, it’s not like anything _serious_ is going to come out of one date. Why is Akaashi so _mad?_ **_Ugh_**.

“You don’t even like Tatsumi-san enough to sit with him in a group date,” Koushi whispers low in Oikawa’s ear, but Oikawa waves the comment away. Akaashi huffs and figures the longer he stands in the kitchen thinking about Oikawa and Bokuto, Bokuto’s kiss and the possibility of Bokuto kissing _Oikawa_ , the more likely he’ll punch Oikawa in the face for no apparent reason.

“I’m going to lie down,” Akaashi mumbles, gently pushing past Koushi to drag his feet towards his bedroom. Koushi watches him leave, then turns to Oikawa.

“He also has really nice arms, Kou-chan. I mean, ‘Cute Barista Guy’ looks like he can bench press a bus, but Bokuto is probably a close second-” Koushi raises his hand and flicks Oikawa square in the forehead. The brunet yelps, rubbing the sore spot. “What was _that_ for?!” Oikawa snaps, careful not to raise his voice too loud to wake Chikara from his nap.

“Just because.”

* * *

There’s a nauseous feeling in Bokuto’s stomach that sits with him when he goes home. It’s different from the nauseous feeling that he had when he saw Akaashi perform and it’s different from when he sees Akaashi smile. This feeling is like someone is stabbing at his intestines and gnawing at his brain. His heart feels too large for his chest and he feels strangely out of breath.

He thinks about what could be wrong with him as he does a little bit of drum practice in his living room. He also thinks about Akaashi’s soft lips and how beautiful his eyes look up close. Bokuto watches some television afterwards as he mulls over what the sickening feeling is and wishes he had some of Akaashi’s warmth snuggling up in his side.

He cooks himself some dinner and figures that maybe he’s just hungry. But after eating _way too much_ curry for just himself, and also thinking about what Akaashi could be doing right now and if he’s having dinner as well, Bokuto finds that the strange feeling is still there. Bokuto watches more television and thinks about Akaashi’s lips and his tongue. He does some more drum practice and thinks about Akaashi’s eyes and his laugh.

(He also takes a shower and unfortunately, his mind wanders to how nice Akaashi’s body feels against him and he spends a longer amount of time in the bathroom than he wanted).

Bokuto doesn’t go to sleep right away; instead, he stares at his ceiling and mulls over just what is this _feeling?_ He almost feels the sensation of Akaashi’s lips on his own again, shy and sensual. He wants to run his fingers through Akaashi’s curls, or cup his face and rub his thumb over Akaashi’s cheekbones. He wants to kiss Akaashi again; it felt like the kiss ended too soon and his hands are trembling just to hold Akaashi close to him once more. He stares and stares at the ceiling, until his eyelids begin to fall shut from exhaustion and he drifts off into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

 

It’s about two in the morning when Bokuto’s eyes almost bulge out of his skull as realization hits him like a ton of bricks.

He’s in love with Akaashi Keiji.

He is also very, _very_ fucked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hmmm, this romantic comedy fic needs more misunderstandings and angst and pining


	7. you're gonna make me love somebody else

Bokuto paces back and forth in his small kitchen, glancing over at his cell phone lying ever so innocently on the dining table every few seconds. He knows that Akaashi has a lesson today with a new student and he _could_ call and ask to hang out after he’s done. But should he bring up the kiss? Should he mention the feelings that he’s been having ever since they done that? Should he bring up _casually_ that he may have fallen deeply in love with Akaashi and he desperately wants to kiss him again?

Bokuto groans and wrings his hands through his hair. “What am I going to do?!” he wails to the kitchen sink and then flings himself into an empty chair. If he brings up his feelings to Akaashi, then what’s going to happen to their relationship? They became such close friends and Bokuto doesn’t want to make things awkward between them if he reveals that he has a little – well, actually it’s _pretty fucking big_ – crush on the piano player.

Matter of fact, it’s pointless to bring it up anyways. Akaashi is _engaged_. Someone who already had his shit together beat Bokuto to the punch and is going to take Akaashi for a husband. The thought of that alone is enough to bring Bokuto’s mood down and force a sigh of dejection from his lips.

Souichi is tall and good looking and has a successful job. He looks good standing next to Akaashi and vice-versa. Bokuto doesn’t look like he could be married to someone as elegant and perfect as Akaashi. Akaashi is so out of his league, he shouldn’t even entertain the _thought_ of them getting together.

Bokuto drops his head to the table and groans. He sucks. Life sucks.

The phone buzzes loudly, interrupting his moment of dejection. He reaches for it, checking the front screen to see that he has a text message. His eyes widen when he sees it’s Akaashi. Bokuto fumbles with his phone a bit, trying to unlock the screen and see the full text, his heart beating erratically in his chest.

**Akaashi 12:45pm**

**Would you want to go on a group date?**

**Akaashi 12:45pm**

**Oikawa-san is interested in you**

Bokuto blinks, reading over the second text message as if he’s trying to decipher a hidden message out of it. Akaashi is trying to set Bokuto up with one of his friends? Does he. . .does he already know Bokuto has feelings for him and is trying to turn him down gently?

Bokuto begins to gnaw at his lower lip. He doesn’t know if he should bring up the kiss or not. After all, Bokuto himself said that it wasn’t supposed to mean anything and was clearly for science.

(Now that he looks back on it, that has got to have been the stupidest thing he’s ever said.)

**Bokuto 12:47pm**

**Sure ok**

What else can he say? ‘No, but can we talk about how I kissed you and I actually really liked it and I want to know if you felt the same way’? Sure, he thinks that Akaashi’s friend is somewhat attractive, but he wants _Akaashi_. He wants to kiss him all over his face and in the nape of his neck to his clavicle, across every bit of pale skin and watch it bloom red under his lips.

Akaashi’s message comes back rather quickly and is still rather vague.

**Akaashi 12:50pm**

**Fine then**

Bokuto feels like he’s failed a test he didn’t know he was taking.

He gnaws on his lower lip and wishes that he can see what type of expression Akaashi is making when he sends out these texts. Does he look annoyed about Bokuto agreeing to the date? Relieved that Bokuto is moving past something stupid like this? He wishes that he never kissed Akaashi in the first place so all these feelings of doubt won’t be floating in his head and clogging up his mind so much that he can’t even think straight.

Bokuto drops his head back down to the table and groans some more, not knowing that halfway across town at Fukurodani, Akaashi has his head against the music stand for his piano and is groaning about the absolute _mess_ this double date is going to be.

* * *

 

**Bro-kuto ＼（＠￣∇￣＠）／ - 6:45 pm**

**Bro**

**Kuroo - 6:45 pm**

**Bro??**

**Bro-kuto ＼（＠￣∇￣＠）／ - 6:46 pm**

**If you kissed someone and fell madly in love with them but u have to go on a double date with their best friend and watch them be all lovey-dovey with their fiancé, what would u do???**

**Kuroo - 6:46 pm**

**U kissed akaashi??????!!!**

**Bro-kuto ＼（＠￣∇￣＠）／- 6:46 pm**

**I didn't say that**

**Im talking about a friend**

**That isn’t me**

**Kuroo - 6:47 pm**

**Bullshit me and yukie are ur only friends and we’re already married**

**Bro-kuto ＼（＠￣∇￣＠）／- 6:47 pm**

**Rude what about my friends at work?**

**Kuroo - 6:48 pm**

**None of them have fiancés**

**Bro-kuto ＼（＠￣∇￣＠）／- 6:49 pm**

**U don't know that**

**Kuroo - 6:49 pm**

**I just rolled my eyes so hard I thought I was going to fall out of my chair rn**

**Bro-kuto ＼（＠￣∇￣＠）／ - 6:50 pm**

**Can u just give me advice already!!!!!!**

**Kuroo - 6:50 pm**

**U should have told him how u felt already bro**

**This double date is going 2 eat u alive**

**Bro-kuto ＼（＠￣∇￣＠）／- 6:51 pm**

**It might not be bad**

**Kuroo - 6:51 pm**

**Is the other guy hot at least?**

**Bro-kuto ＼（＠￣∇￣＠）／- 6:51 pm**

**Hes not bad to look at I guess**

**Not akaashi tho**

**Im so fucked jfc what am I going to do**

**Kuroo - 6:52 pm**

**Just tell him how u really feel**

**That's all u can do**

* * *

 

So far, Akaashi’s had three shots of tequila, two cocktails, and is polishing off the remnants of a gin fizz.  The loud music of the club makes Akaashi’s head throb and he can’t even hear what anyone is saying. The bright flashing lights coming from the dancefloor below and the neon lights around them make his eyes hurt. The alcohol is doing its job though, since Akaashi can’t even recognize the two smudges of color sitting across him at the table as Oikawa cuddling into Bokuto’s side and batting his eyes up at the drummer.

And once Akaashi’s had another drink, he’d be so drunk to not even care where he is or who’s here with him.

“This is so much fun! Isn’t this fun?!” Oikawa shouts, completely unaware of the awkward tension that’s radiating from Bokuto and the pissed drunk vibe radiating from Akaashi. Or maybe he does, since his smile is clenched a little too tight and his eyes are darting around to read everyone’s facial expressions.

Bokuto nods his head and gives an awkward chuckle before he takes a small sip of his own drink. Kuroo was right, this double date is eating him alive. Oikawa has his arm around his right bicep and has yet to loosen his hold, like he intends for Bokuto to stick by his side for the entire night. Akaashi hasn’t even looked him in the eye the entire time they’ve been here, though he does roll his eyes before he takes a big gulp of his drink every time Oikawa opens his mouth.

Souichi looks quite bored with the entire thing, checking his phone as he has an arm lazily draped around Akaashi’s shoulders. Bokuto wants that to be _his_ arm around Akaashi, and he finds himself just staring at Souichi’s limb as if he can will it to move away from Akaashi (or burst into flames if it turns out Bokuto actually had dormant superpowers all this time).

“Yeah. Fun,” Akaashi says dryly and slouches in his chair. “Waiter!” Akaashi shouts to the neon lights above them and raises his hand upwards like he’s begging for a nonexistent teacher to call on him. Shortly afterwards, a server comes by in a tight mesh muscle shirt and neon hair brighter than the colors glowing off the dancefloor below.

“Yes?” he asks, already eying the _many_ glasses covering the tabletop. Akaashi randomly picks a glass and hands it to the waiter.

“I don’t remember what this one was, but I want more of it,” Akaashi demands.

“Singapore sling,” Souichi elaborates, not even looking up from his phone.

“Right. What he said,” Akaashi slurs.

The server takes a moment to assess whether or not that will be a good thing, before he clears the table of extra empty glasses and beer bottles. “Right away,” he says and leaves, glancing over his shoulder when Akaashi slumps onto the table and accidentally knocks some silverware to the ground.

“Don’t you think he’s had enough?” Oikawa asks, glaring hard at Souichi. Souichi rolls his eyes, putting his cell phone down to rub Akaashi’s back in slow circles.

“He’s a big boy. He knows what he’s doing,” Souichi says with a teasing smile and Akaashi lifts his head up, blearily blinking at Oikawa.

“Yeah, I know when I had enough,” Akaashi spits. Bokuto clears his throat, awkwardly drumming his fingertips over the surface of the table as he feels Oikawa squeezing his arm tighter and the brunet’s eyes darkening. Bokuto gestures to the stereo speakers carrying the sound from the dancefloor up to the upper levels of the club where they were seated.

“This is some good music, right?” Bokuto begins awkwardly. “I mean, I’m more of a rock’n’roll kind of guy but-”

“Who’s your favorite artist, Bokuto-kun?” Oikawa asks, relieved that there’s a conversation being stirred up.

“Uh, my dad used to play all these records from bands overseas. Like British rock bands and stuff? The Cure, The Smiths, I guess they were a big influence on my tastes,” Bokuto says and chuckles. “When he was a teenager, my dad actually went to see The Cure when they played in Nakano and he said he almost passed out cause he got too excited,” Bokuto says fondly and Akaashi perks up immediately.

“Do you like David Bowie?”

Bokuto nods his head and Akaashi smiles, face all aglow. It makes Bokuto melt.

“I _love_ David Bowie. He’s so cool. Oikawa-san once dressed up like him for Halloween cause he thought he was the first human to actually talk to aliens,” Akaashi muses and Oikawa turns scarlet.

“Kei-chan, I was seven! How was I supposed to know ‘Starman’ was _just_ a song?!”

“Did you have the makeup and everything?” Bokuto asks curiously and Oikawa huffs.

“Well duh. I wasn’t going to half-ass a costume of a guy that became my _hero_ because I thought he could talk to aliens,” Oikawa says and Bokuto laughs, scratching the back of his head.

“I just dressed up as Superman for Halloween every year. My mom has an entire photobook filled of me in costume,” Bokuto shares and Oikawa smiles, cuddling closer to Bokuto.

“Then maybe you should show me it sometime. I bet you were just as cute then as you are now,” Oikawa says with a coy wink. Bokuto blinks and gives an awkward laugh, turning away from Oikawa’s intense gaze.

“God, I’m going to throw up looking at you two,” Akaashi blurts out and Oikawa glances over at his friend.

“Uh, _rude_ ,” Oikawa states and Akaashi closes his eyes. He raises his hand to his forehead and winces.

“No. . .no, I’m really going to throw up,” Akaashi groans and gets up. Instead of politely asking for Souichi (who went back to looking at his phone) to move over so he can get by, Akaashi begins to clamor over the table to get out. Bokuto reaches out to keep Akaashi steady as he crawls over the table, knocking more silverware onto the floor.

Oikawa quickly gets up and grabs Akaashi’s hand to hold him steady, shooting a look at Souichi before he looks at Bokuto. “Just give us a moment,” he says to his date and begins to drag Akaashi towards the bathroom.

Bokuto watches the two disappear into the crowd, about to get up and follow them before Souichi raises his hand to stop him.

“Don’t worry. Oikawa’s going to take care of him and he’ll feel better when he vomits,” he says and rests his chin on his hand, allowing his eyes to wander and follow a couple of waiters that pass them by on their way to other tables.

Bokuto leans back in his chair. “Uh. . .right. . .hope so. . .”

It occurs to Bokuto that this is the first time he has spoken to Souichi without Akaashi nearby. He feels rather uncomfortable and fidgets in his seat, twiddling his thumbs as he tries to think of something to start a conversation with.

“So,” Bokuto begins, “you’re getting married real soon huh?”

“Yeah,” Souichi answers, eyes still scanning the area like a wolf trying to pick out the best prey. Bokuto swallows down a dry lump in his throat.

“Are you. . .are you excited?”

“Well, I owe it to Akaashi to marry him. His dad got me in the business I’m in now and I’ve been with him for a couple years. Might as well, you know?” Souichi says with a shrug. No, no Bokuto _doesn’t_ know. How is he taking being married – getting the chance to spend the rest of your life with someone as beautiful and talented and kind and smart and _perfect_ as Akaashi – so _nonchalantly?_

Bokuto bites his lower lip and cracks a tense grin. “Akaashi’s dad does music, right? So you’re a music man yourself?”

“That was just a stepping stone. I’m in bonds and stock now. That’s where the _real_ money is,” Souichi says matter-of-factly and Bokuto bites the inside of his cheek. Is money really _that_ important? What about having a job that you _love_?

There’s a few seconds of awkward silence between them and Bokuto folds his arms over his chest. “Well. . .that’s great. You can provide for Akaashi and all. . .you _want_ to marry him, right?”

Souichi raises an eyebrow and Bokuto twitches in his spot, worrying that Souichi might be picking up on his real feelings. He tries to slouch in his seat and come off more relaxed about the conversation while Souichi props his chin up on his hand once more.

“Well I don’t want to break up with him. He makes a good little ‘housewife’,” Souichi says with a shrug just as the server comes back with Akaashi’s drink and sets in on the table.

“He had to throw up, didn’t he?” the server asks, noting Akaashi’s absence and also the spilled silverware on the floor. Souichi nods his head, his eyes now roaming up and down the length of the server’s body in those clad tight pants and lean arms.

“It’s alright, we’ll be leaving shortly. I’ll finish this off for him,” Souichi says, bringing the drink up to his lips to take a quick sip. The server shrugs and continues on to the other tables, Souichi’s eyes lingering on his backside. Bokuto watches the server go as well, biting the inside of his cheek before he turns back to Souichi and feels a small sickness welling in his stomach.

“He’s cute, isn’t he?” Bokuto casually throws out and hopes that Souichi _doesn’t_ take the bait. Souichi chuckles, taking another sip of his drink.

“Yeah, that’s top of the line right there. Nice legs, _great_ ass. He’s got as nice of a body as Oikawa’s and that’s saying something because Oikawa has a _really_ nice body. Too bad about his mouth though, huh?” Souichi says and laughs. Bokuto laughs along, dry and uncomfortable.

Souichi leans back in his chair and runs a hand through his hair, swirling his drink around in his glass as Bokuto slowly tries to process what’s going on right now.

“Yeah. . .but that’s not why I’m his date for tonight. You know, I would want to know him and he could be a really nice person-”

Souichi snorts. “Come on, don’t bullshit me. It’s all about the chase and getting someone hot like _that_ ,” he tilts his head towards the server a couple tables away, “into your bed. Who cares about getting to know someone if it’s just going to be a one night stand anyways?”

“I don’t do that kind of thing,” Bokuto says crossly and Souichi raises an eyebrow.

“Really? Wow, that’s pretty noble of you. A boring sex life, but noble,” Souichi comments as if he’s giving a compliment. Bokuto feels his teeth gritting in annoyance.

Souichi leans in close. “How hot have you had them?” he asks with a sly smile and Bokuto flushes red. He thinks about Aki and how he’s really never slept with anyone other than his ex-fiancé. Sex wasn’t something casual for Bokuto and he didn’t really think about it much as he did when he was a hormone crazed teenager. He's more preoccupied with what came afterwards, the relationship and spending forever with someone you love (with passionate nights bundled in).

Aki doesn’t seem as gorgeous compared to Akaashi, but he seems like he would be on par with Oikawa in terms of attraction. Bokuto doesn’t know; this subject is starting to make him feel awkward.

“I don’t know. . .as hot as the server, I guess,” Bokuto eventually answers, feeling uncomfortable. Souichi smirks and shakes his head, taking his cell phone and unlocking it. He turns it towards Bokuto, showing him a picture of a guy that looks like he’s a little bit younger than Akaashi mixed in with a text conversation between Souichi and ‘Tendou’.

He has pretty hazel eyes and curly blonde hair, lips pulled in an alluring pout. “What do you think about him?” Souichi asks. Bokuto has no idea where he’s going with this.

“He’s. . .cute?”

“He’s even ‘cuter’ sprawled out over my desk and paperwork,” Souichi says with a wink and Bokuto blinks.

Oh.

 _Oh_.

**Oh.**

Bokuto leans back, his left hand squeezing his right fist tight to keep it from swinging out and hitting Souichi square in the jaw. Bokuto tries to play it off; he smiles with clenched teeth and his eyes are hollow and cold.

“. . .Impressive. . .how do you do it without getting caught?” Bokuto asks, voice quivering. How has Souichi got away without getting caught for _three months?_ Maybe even longer than that. Three months while Akaashi was worriedly trying to plan the perfect wedding that Souichi didn’t want any part of, his fiancé that Bokuto _thought_ loved and adored and cherished him was busy fucking around with another _guy_.

Souichi laughs. “I work in the city, man. Businessmen like me need to have a lot of secretaries and assistants to give them what they need, right? And I work _long_ hours,” Souichi boasts. The fucker is actually _bragging_ about sleeping around with his assistants – plural, he’s cheated on Akaashi with _multiple people, Bokuto is going to **maul this bastard** \- _

“Bokuto-kun!”

Bokuto is snapped out of his blind rage by Oikawa’s voice, looking up to see the brunet rushing back over to the table. “Kei-chan’s really sick. He needs to go home,” Oikawa says and Souichi sighs, getting to his feet.

“I’ll bring the car around. Make sure he doesn’t throw up on the way,” Souichi says, clapping Oikawa on the shoulder. Oikawa pulls away literally the moment Souichi touches him, looking quite annoyed as Souichi takes his leave from the table and into the crowd. Bokuto feels like there’s a bad taste in his mouth and his hand is squeezing so tight that it begins to hurt.

“‘Oh’,” Oikawa says and Bokuto glances up at his date. “‘Keiji is sick? Then I, as a loving and concerned fiancé, should go and make sure he’s okay while the _friends_ get the car’,” Oikawa says in a mocking tone before he huffs and curses under his breath. He turns to Bokuto, pitying look in his eyes.

“Do you mind helping, Bokuto-kun?”

Bokuto shakes his head and gets to his feet.

“N-No, I don’t mind. Come on, let’s go get him,” Bokuto stammers.

Oikawa smiles, warm and grateful.

* * *

Akaashi is less abrasive and more sluggish as Bokuto and Oikawa help him out of the club. Bokuto supports most of Akaashi’s weight, holding him firm against his side and gently rubbing circles into the back of Akaashi’s hand with his thumb.

The night air is cold and there isn’t any sign of Souichi’s flashy car amongst all of the relatively normal ones. Bokuto still has to take Oikawa to the train station so he can head back home before he can head home himself.

He glances down at Akaashi, a completely exhausted in his dull green eyes. Bokuto _really_ doesn’t want Akaashi to go home with Souichi. Who knows if Akaashi is going to be even taken care of the moment he’s out of Bokuto’s sight?

Oikawa groans and unwraps Akaashi’s arm from around his shoulders. “Hold on, I think I left my phone in there. Can you take care of him for a quick second?” he asks and Bokuto wraps his arms around Akaashi nice and tight. The piano teacher’s face snuggles into Bokuto’s chest and he sighs in content. Bokuto feels his face grow hot and watches Oikawa quickly dash back into the club before he looks down at Akaashi.

To his surprise, Akaashi is standing up straighter now and is looking up at Bokuto. His eyes are glazed over, but they’re so _beautiful._ They really do look like emeralds and Bokuto can see the starry sky sparkling in Akaashi’s eyes.

“Bokuto-san,” Akaashi starts, “You always smell so nice. You’ve been using those oils I gave you,” Akaashi murmurs, voice raspy and quiet.

Bokuto smiles. “Yeah, I really like them. Thank you for giving them to me.”

Akaashi smiles. “I’m happy you like them. I’m really happy you used them. You always smell so nice now,” Akaashi chuckles and presses his face into Bokuto’s clavicle to take a deep inhale of Bokuto’s skin. Bokuto jumps momentarily, winding his arms around Akaashi’s lithe frame as Akaashi leans more of his weight into Bokuto.

“I probably smell like vomit right now,” Akaashi says into Bokuto’s skin.

“No, you don’t,” Bokuto reassures. He dips his nose down into Akaashi’s hair to check, however. It still smells sweet and his locks tickle Bokuto’s nose. Akaashi is the one that always smells nice; Bokuto’s legs feel like jelly just holding him close like this and breathing him in.

Akaashi giggles and places a shaky hand on Bokuto’s shoulder. “R-Remember when I told you I got super drunk and I puked on my best friend’s shirt?” Akaashi slurs and grins big. “That was Oikawa-san,” he admits and laughs. Akaashi plants his face back into Bokuto’s shirt and his grip grows tighter, shoulders trembling. “It isn’t fair. I saw you first.”

Bokuto can feel his chest growing a little wet, so he pulls away to find that Akaashi has began to tear up.

“Hey, hey, don’t cry-” Bokuto barely has time to get his sentence out since Akaashi drags him down and firmly kisses him on the mouth.

This kiss isn’t soft and sweet like before. It’s desperate and has so much longing and force behind it that Bokuto struggles to keep his footing as Akaashi presses more into his body.

Bokuto’s mind immediately breaks out into noisy internal chatter, ranging from ‘ _NONONOONO WE WEREN’T SUPPOSED TO DO THIS AGAIN IT WAS JUST SCIENCE DAMMIT!’_ to ‘god, he’s such a great kisser. What do I do with my mouth? What do I do with my hands?’ to ‘He’s drunk. This isn’t right. I need to stop. I need to _stop_.’

Bokuto finds the strength to push Akaashi back and hold him by his waist at arm’s length. Akaashi’s face is more flushed than before, his eyes still watery with tears. “We. . .I shouldn’t. . .we shouldn’t have done that. This time or last time. I-I’m sorry,” Bokuto stammers out, turning his eyes towards the cement below their feet instead of Akaashi’s crestfallen expression.

That _wasn’t_ what Bokuto wanted to say, but he still can’t find the words to explain anything what he’s feeling right now. He loves Akaashi, he _wants_ Akaashi. Akaashi wants Souichi and Souichi doesn’t want Akaashi as much as he should. Everything’s happening far too fast for Bokuto’s mind to catch up and talk about it.

He bites his lower lip and sighs. “. . .Akaashi-”

Akaashi breaks out into a full, blown _sob_.

Bokuto jumps back, momentarily startled. He’s never seen Akaashi get _this_ bad before over a couple of drinks. Bokuto figures that the piano teacher must have been _really_ holding back those other times they went out with Sarukui and the others. Bokuto reaches a hand out to comfort Akaashi, just as headlights shine on him and illuminate both of their figures.

Souichi gets out of his expensive and flashy car, strolling over to wrap arms around Akaashi’s shaking shoulders as the teacher continues to bawl. Bokuto’s hand falls uselessly limp to his side as Akaashi staggers more into Souichi’s hold to cry into his chest.

“Damn, you had _way_ too much,” Souichi mutters and looks over at Bokuto. “I’ll take it over from here. Come on darling,” he says to Akaashi.

“I s-saw him first. It’s not f-fair,” Akaashi hiccups and sniffles, allowing Souichi to lead him towards his car and into the passenger seat. Souichi glances over his shoulder at Bokuto and waves, but Bokuto doesn’t pay him any attention at all. He just watches Akaashi as he cries into his hands and his skin grows so pink and blotchy.

He wishes that he can do something instead of standing there frozen. He wishes that he can tell Souichi he doesn’t deserve someone like Akaashi and take him home himself. He doesn’t know why he can’t get his feet to move or his voice to croak out for Souichi to stop. He just stands there and watches, completely useless.

Oikawa comes running out of the club just as Souichi pulls away and speeds out to the streets, huffing and trying to catch his breath.

“He’s taking him home?” Oikawa asks and Bokuto gives a slow nod of his head. Oikawa runs a hand through his hair and sighs. “Whatever. At least I can count on him to not be a total shit and guarantee Kei-chan gets home,” Oikawa mutters and turns to Bokuto, offering a small smile.

“Sorry that our double date ended so soon. . .but you know,” Oikawa says and slides in close to Bokuto, pulling his lower lip in between his teeth. “We can still do something together, right?” he says low, trailing his fingers up Bokuto’s chest.

Bokuto takes Oikawa’s hand and shakes his head. “I think I should get you to the train station before they stop running and you end up stuck out here,” Bokuto says with a weak smile. Oikawa pouts, but he moves his hand down to tangle his fingers with Bokuto’s.

“Fine. I have a morning class anyways that I’m _so_ not going to feel like teaching if I stay up any longer,” Oikawa says and takes the lead in pulling Bokuto along to Bokuto’s car. Bokuto hums in agreement, glancing out into the busy streets.

He thinks about Akaashi kissing him, desperate and pitying, and those shiny emerald eyes.

* * *

Oikawa reveals that he’s an elementary school teacher as Bokuto speedily drives to make it to the station before the last train departs. He also teaches volleyball Saturday mornings to kids under the age of ten with two of his friends. He likes his coffee scalding and always goes to a café down the street from his apartment every morning even though the manager there is a total asshole. There’s also a cute barista that works down there, a little on the short side but with arms like a god.

Bokuto tries to listen to Oikawa talk and tries to keep the conversation going whenever there’s any pauses between them, but all he can think about is Akaashi and what he can be doing right now.

He hopes that Souichi got Akaashi home safe and sound. What if Souichi doesn’t take care of Akaashi and leaves him just to go mess around with some random floozy off the streets? Or worse, what if Souichi is the type to take advantage of someone that’s intoxicated. Bokuto’s hands grip the steering wheel tight and his knuckles grow white. No, he can’t think that way. He can’t worry about Akaashi like this; he’s going to make himself sick if he does.

“Ne, Bokuto-kun?”

“H-Huh?” Bokuto stammers, glancing over at Oikawa for a quick second before moving his eyes back to the road ahead.

“Be honest with me. Would you consider going on another date? Just the two of us?” Oikawa asks, watching the city lights out the window go by. Bokuto bites the inside of his cheek and inhales sharply through his nose.

Oikawa is attractive, Bokuto can agree with that. He must love kids as much as Bokuto since he has _two_ jobs centered around teaching them. It would be great if Bokuto can just not care about Akaashi and forget about all these feelings that still strangle his throat whenever he thinks about him. But. . .

Oikawa sighs dramatically and runs a hand through his hair. “It’s alright. You don’t need to worry about hurting my feelings. I’m a big boy,” Oikawa says with a playful little wink.

“. . .It’s not that you’re not a nice person or anything-”

“You just have a thing for Kei-chan,” Oikawa says bluntly and pouts. “I thought I could change your mind too. Usually no one can resist the ‘smolder and cuddle’. Well, except for you and Cute Barista Guy.”

Bokuto flushes red. “. . .Was I that obvious?”

“Maybe not to Kei-chan and Tatsumi if that’s what you’re worried about. But you were glaring super hard at Tatsumi’s arm around Kei-chan. You looked like you were about to rip it off yourself if he didn’t move it,” Oikawa snickers and Bokuto huffs.

“No I wasn’t. They’re getting married, so it’s normal for him to have his arm around Akaashi. Even though it shouldn’t because he’s a total asshole and Akaashi should be with someone more like him.”

“Someone like you?” Oikawa asks and Bokuto gives a furious nod of his head. Oikawa hums.

“Well, it’s not that hard to understand why he’s with someone like Tatsumi. Especially when you’ve met Kei-chan’s mother,” Oikawa says and gives a smile. “Woman has _great_ taste in fashion, but is a total ballbuster. Tatsumi is the only one out of guys that Kei-chan has dated that has managed to impress her.”

 _She probably wouldn’t be impressed if she found out he’s a lying, cheating scumbag_ , Bokuto thinks. He turns right and slows to a stop at the light, the train station up ahead.

“Well, I can impress her. She didn’t seem like she wanted to bust my balls or anything when I met her,” Bokuto offers and Oikawa snorts.

“She probably didn’t even put you on the same playing field as Tatsumi. Bokuto-kun, you’re a nice guy and all, but between you and Tatsumi, Tatsumi would be the obvious pick,” Oikawa says. Bokuto grips the steering wheel tighter.

“Why?”

Oikawa sighs. “As awful as his personality is, Tatsumi is. . .the safer choice. Both of Kei-chan’s parents like him, he’s good looking, he’s _super_ loaded with a big fancy house and a well-paying job. And you’re just. . .Bokuto,” Oikawa says rather pitying. Bokuto’s lips pull into a hard line, pulling his car into the loading zone of the station.

There’s not many people out tonight, and Bokuto thinks that Oikawa’s train doesn’t leave for a couple more minutes. He puts the car in park and drops his hands into his lap, trying to think.

“Is. . .is that really a big deal?” Bokuto murmurs.

“Well, yeah. It’s important for a _lot_ of people,” Oikawa says. Bokuto glances at him and finds that Oikawa isn’t looking at him with malice or like he’s trying to change his mind. His eyes look sorry and his lips are also pulled into a frown, like he wishes that things weren’t the way they were. Bokuto looks away and back at his hands and the callouses on his fingertips.

Why? Why is any of that important? He _loves_ Akaashi. Why isn’t that the most important thing? Bokuto doesn’t understand any of this. He doesn’t understand why can’t he be considered good enough for Akaashi when he loves him _way more_ than Souichi does.

Oikawa undoes his seatbelt. “I better get my ticket and get going. Thanks for agreeing to come tonight, even though you were probably not interested in the first place,” Oikawa says with an exaggerated sigh and Bokuto twitches in his spot.

“I-I’m sorry!”

“It’s alright, there’s other fish in the sea. In fact, now I can continue to pursue Cute Barista Guy. Once I’m done breaking Ushiwaka-chan’s resolve and get his cute employee’s name and schedule, I’ll get him to go on a date with me instead!” Oikawa says with a gleeful tone and a scarily determined expression.

(In Aoba Johsai Café & Bakery, Iwaizumi Hajime sneezes and Ushijima Wakatoshi feels a sense of dread wash over him.)

Oikawa rests a hand on Bokuto’s shoulder. “Maybe if you just clean yourself up a little bit, then maybe you’ll have a fighting chance against Tatsumi,” Oikawa suggests. Bokuto gives a slow nod of his head in understanding and Oikawa gives a peace sign. “I’ll see you around then, yeah?”

“Yeah, sure,” Bokuto says and rubs the back of his neck. “Sorry again for making this date. . .not really a date.”

Oikawa taps his chin. “Well, there _is_ one way you can make up for it,” he muses and Bokuto blinks. He’s about to ask just what that ‘something’ is, but Oikawa’s lips cover his own faster than he can get the words out.

Oikawa _definitely_ tastes sweeter than Akaashi; there’s a small hint of pink lemonade and vanilla mint on his lips. He’s smiling into the kiss too, like a little mischievous imp that’s played a clever trick. Bokuto is too startled to kiss back (or really do anything since his body goes rigid the second Oikawa kisses him), but the kiss is relatively quick and Oikawa pulls away to let Bokuto breathe.

Oikawa runs his tongue over his lower lip and hums. “Not bad,” he says and Bokuto smiles awkwardly.

“Uh, thanks?” he says unsure and Oikawa winks, opening the door to let himself out. He waves goodbye to Bokuto before he treks up the steps of the station towards the gates. Bokuto watches him go until Oikawa is out of his line of sight, then he rubs his thumb over his lower lip and wipes the taste of Oikawa clean.

He puts his car into drive and heads for home, replaying Oikawa’s words in his head and his mind setting a plan into motion.

* * *

Akaashi cancels his Saturday morning classes in favor of lying face down in bed and groaning over how stupid he was last night to get so wasted that Souichi had to take him home. All of last night is a blur as a matter of fact. He remembers making out with someone (but not who) and he also remembers sobbing so hard that he had to vomit again once Souichi helped him into his apartment.

His fiancé isn’t here, most likely off at work like Akaashi should be right now. The piano player knows that he’ll have to get up eventually if he wants to eat, but the bed is just _so_ comfortable right now and he doesn’t want to move an inch. He feels himself drifting off back to sleep and snuggles into his pillow. Just give him another hour or two and he’ll be back to normal.

That is, until an obnoxiously loud ringtone filters into Akaashi’s ears and makes his head _thunder_.

He raises his head up and groans loudly, blindly grabbing around his nightstand for his cell phone to hiss at whoever was calling him to leave him the hell alone. He finds it and struggles to answer it, determined to keep his eyes shut at least to keep them safe from the sunlight streaming through his window.

“I’m not home. Call back later,” Akaashi groggily answers when he finally manages to push the right button.

“ _Good morning to you too, sunshine!_ ” Oikawa’s perky voice answers back and Akaashi sighs through his nose.

“How can you be so chipper at,” Akaashi pauses to squint at his clock, “eleven in the morning?”

“ _It’s almost noon, Kei-chan. And unlike **some** people, I watched how much I drank_.”

Akaashi rubs his forehead. He can faintly hear children in the background and the sound of volleyballs flying around and hitting the courts. Oikawa must already be at his volleyball class, which means that Akaashi _really_ slept in this morning.

“How bad was I?”

“ _You climbed over a table, tried to pick a fight with me in the bathroom, puked, and then you started crying into the toilet because it was the nicest toilet you ever seen and you ruined it with your puke_ ,” Oikawa rattles off and Akaashi groans.

“I didn’t puke on you this time, did I?”

“ _No. Honestly, Kei-chan, you’re such a hot mess when you’re drunk. If I wasn’t your dearest, closest friend, I would find it very entertaining_ ,” Oikawa says. Akaashi rolls onto his side and tucks a stray curl behind his ear.

“So,” Akaashi starts, trying to sound as casual as possible, “how did things go with Bokuto-san?”

Oikawa sighs; the disappointed tone makes Akaashi excited for some reason. “ _Nothing much. He took me to the station and we talked and we had a little kiss-_ ”

“Kiss?” Akaashi says, alert. “You two kissed? Who kissed who?”

“ _Yes, I kissed him. Don’t worry, it didn’t go any farther than that_.”

Akaashi scoffs, his heart doing a little happy dance in his chest amidst the queasy feeling in his stomach. “Why would I care?” he says and Oikawa clicks his tongue.

“ _Anyways, I think we’ll just be friends. I got my sights on Iwa-chan now._ ”

“Who’s ‘Iwa-chan’?”

“ _Cute Barista Guy. I stopped by the café before I went home and Ushiwaka was closing up, so I barricaded us inside and refused to let him go home until he at least gave me his name_.”

“The lengths you actually will go to get into someone’s pants is terrifying, Oikawa-san.”

“ _There’s my snarky little Kei-chan!_ ” Oikawa coos. “ _But yeah, Bokuto-kun is a nice guy. Doesn’t like your fiancé though, that’s for sure_.”

Akaashi raises an eyebrow. “Why? What did you tell him?”

“ _Nothing! He came to the conclusion that Souichi is an awful person all on his own_.”

“He _isn’t_ that bad if you just take the time to know him,” Akaashi says defensively and Oikawa huffs.

“ _No need to. I already know your reasons for marrying him_ ,” Oikawa says and Akaashi frowns.

“Which is?”

“ _. . .Well, because with Souichi, you’ll have security and because your mother likes him_ ,” Oikawa explains. Akaashi blinks, then props himself up onto his elbows.

“That’s not the reason I’m marrying him,” Akaashi states.

“ _Then why are you?_ ” Oikawa asks and Akaashi blinks. He felt the reason should be obvious. He’s marrying Souichi because Akaashi _loves_ him. . .wasn’t that obvious? He tangles his fingers in his bedsheets and bites his lower lip. He knows Souichi has a difficult personality and might rub other people the wrong way, but there’s good qualities of him.

Akaashi opens his mouth to offer up an answer to Oikawa’s question, but he hears Oikawa curse quietly over the phone. “ _Gotta go, Goshiki-chan just took a volleyball to the face. Oi! You two-”_ the call cuts off before Akaashi can hear the rest of that sentence. He looks at his phone and then tosses it off to the side, grabbing one of his pillows to bury his face in.

Too many things are happening all at once.

Akaashi is going to be married very soon and he’s. . .he’s not ready.

He’s not ready in the least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i estimate that akaashi would be the hot mess drunk type. other contenders are daichi, yahaba and yaku.
> 
> probably two more chapters after this! (cause if this chapter and next chapter were combined, there'd be too many bad things happening all at once)


	8. you, soft and only

To Akaashi’s confusion, Bokuto doesn’t show up for their music practice on Sunday. This is the last practice before the showcase on Saturday and Lev still needs some help with the bridge and keeping a steady beat for Yaku to play to. Akaashi feels rather useless as a teacher for not being able to offer the boy any good advice other than ‘just keep trying, Haiba-san’ and a reassuring pat on his shoulder. Yaku also tries to give reassurance in his own way, with a friendly smile or a thumbs up on the parts that Lev manages to get right.

They don’t end up getting that far in practice and Lev gets frustrated more than once, smashing his sticks against the cymbals in a loud crash when he can’t get the beat right. Eventually, Akaashi manages to coax Konoha to stand in for Bokuto for a bit while he tries to get in touch with the missing drummer. Konoha may not be a drummer, but he’s better at handling Lev than Akaashi is.

“Sarukui-san, did Bokuto call in to say he wasn’t going to come? Nothing bad happened to him, did he?” Akaashi asks worriedly as he approaches the front desk. Sarukui sighs and drums his fingertips over his appointment book.

“He called,” Sarukui says and Akaashi leans forward.

“What? What is it? What happened?” Akaashi questions. Sarukui closes his eyes and gives Akaashi a pitying look.

“He quit.”

Akaashi blinks, then frowns.

“What do you mean he ‘quit’?”

“Exactly like I said it. He called in and said he’s quitting. He’s apparently going to try and get a job at one of the buildings his friend works at, where they make the ‘real money’,” Sarukui says with a frown and shakes his head.

“W-Wha- _why?_ The showcase is Saturday, he can’t just _quit_. What about Lev?! Or his other students!”

“I tried to talk to him about it, but he hung up and he hasn’t been answering his phone,” Sarukui explains and rubs his face. “I honestly don’t know what’s going on in his head right now or why he’s doing this. . .you hang around him a lot, do you know anything? Like, if he was acting funny?”

“No,” Akaashi says, trying to go over Bokuto’s mannerisms over the course of the last few weeks for some sort of clue that he was thinking about doing this. It doesn’t make any sense at all; Bokuto _loves_ children and he loves this job. Why would he give it up like it didn’t mean anything to him at all? How can he just walk out on Lev when he worked so hard to improve Lev’s skills?

“. . .I’m going to go to his home after the lesson. Can you call Tsukishima-kun’s father and tell him that the lesson will have to be pushed back by at least thirty minutes?” Akaashi asks and Sarukui nods his head. He then snaps his fingers and reaches under the desk, pulling out a stack of blank sheet music paper.

“By the way, here’s the papers you wanted. Though. . .I don’t know how useful they’ll be now-”

“No, this is fine. Thank you for getting them printed for me,” Akaashi says and takes them, smiling at it. “Maybe if I show him this, he’ll come to his senses and come back.”

“I hope so. He didn’t sound alright when he was talking on the phone. It sounded like he was just bordering on ‘dejected mode’,” Sarukui says worriedly and Akaashi bites his lower lip. It sounds like Bokuto was back in that mood when he got left at the altar.

He didn’t want to see Bokuto suffering like that again. He didn’t want Bokuto to walk around without that goofy grin and his booming voice that was filled with excitement and happiness. Akaashi holds the sheet music tight to his chest and close to his heart. The second the lesson is over, he’s heading straight to Bokuto’s home to sort things out.

* * *

“So. . .tell me about yourself Bokuto-san,” Nakashima says with a weak smile. Really, he doesn’t know what to go off of, since Bokuto’s resume gives him no background whatsoever in banking. There’s a lot of information that will impress a manager looking for a drummer for a rock band, or someone wanting to hire a music instructor however. Why does a guy like him want a job in a place like this?

Bokuto swallows a lump in his throat and adjusts the tie around his neck. Not too much though, since he has absolutely no idea how to tie it back if it came apart. Apparently, those clip on ties didn’t look suitable for an interview with some fancy bank.

“Well,” Bokuto begins and clears his throat, “I know a lot about money and the whole concept of borrowing and lending. I used to borrow a lot of money from my best friend and I always paid him back on time. . .and I, uh. . .I have a savings account. . .well, not really an account. It’s more like a jar that I keep on my fridge and fill up with any loose change I might find on the street. But I’d like to add more to that jar! And that’s where you get the opportunity to help me out!” Bokuto says hopefully.

Nakashima blinks and clears his throat. “Right. . .um, listen, I know you came on Nobuyuki’s recommendation and all-”

“And he’s a _great_ guy with a wonderful wife, right?” Bokuto adds on.

“Yeah, yeah. But that’s beside the point. Bokuto-san, I don’t think you’re really qualified for a job like this,” Nakashima says softly and Bokuto bites his lower lip.

“I-I can learn the ropes, can’t I? If you can just give me a chance, I’ll work really hard!”

“I’m afraid that we don’t have any positions you can just step in and _learn_ how to handle finances. But I’m sure there are other jobs that are more suited for you. Like maybe a music teacher or-”

“Ok, I’m just going to come out with the truth,” Bokuto interrupts, twiddling his thumbs. “I _really_ need to impress someone and I _need_ this job in order for him to give me the time of day.”

Nakashima rises to his feet. “Then I’m afraid I can’t help you with that.”

Bokuto gets to his feet immediately, blocking the man’s path from exiting out of the small office they are in. “You don’t have to give me a job as a banker. I’ll take anything. I’ll be a shoeshine boy or the guy that brings everybody coffee. Just give me a couple of business cards that say I’m a banker.”

“Bokuto-san, please don’t beg,” Nakashima says and tries to step around Bokuto again, but Bokuto blocks his path once more.

“Do you or your kids want to learn how to play an instrument? I can teach for free if you just give me _one_ business card, _please_ ,” Bokuto pleads, voice trembling. He knows he sounds pathetic, he knows that he doesn’t want to waste this man’s time anymore when it’s clear that he’s not going to give him the job. But he just _can’t_ give up. This is the only way that he can get on even footing with Souichi and for Akaashi to even _consider_ to marry him. He _has_ to get this job, he just _has to_.

Nakashima sighs and brings his hand to his temple. “Bokuto-san, I’m sorry. Please, I need to head back to my desk,” he says, still polite even after Bokuto refuses to comply. Bokuto sees in the man’s eyes that he’s tired and he’s just making his day longer and more exhausting.

Bokuto bows his head and finally steps off to the side, his heart tightening in his chest and his memory of Akaashi’s lips on his own wavering. “Right. . .I’m sorry for wasting your time,” he murmurs. He feels a hand clasp his shoulder and he glances up, Nakashima giving him a little grin.

“Good luck with that boy you want to impress. Maybe you can write him a song. That’s more impressive than saying you’re a banker, don’t you think?” he suggests.

Bokuto can only muster up a weak smile in response.

* * *

 

Bokuto considers a lot of things on his drive back home from the bank.

He thinks about telling Akaashi the truth about Souichi and hope that Akaashi will choose him instead. But Souichi is no doubt crafty and can probably delete anything incriminating or have a way of hiding it if Akaashi decides to ask him about it. Plus, Akaashi is still in love with Souichi, and Bokuto doesn’t want to violently rip Akaashi out of it. The _last_ thing Bokuto wants to be is some homewrecker.

Then again, that’s basically what he’s _trying_ to be by finding a new job to impress Akaashi.

He thinks about any other job that he can take that will better suit him, but none come to mind. Maybe if he got a job in the music career and used it as a stepping stone like Souichi did, but who knows how long that’ll take? Akaashi is getting married _Sunday_ , he doesn’t have any time to start at the bottom and work his way to the top!

He doesn’t have any time left. He’s out of time. It’s too late. No, no _no_.

Bokuto sits in his car for a few moments, resting his forehead against his steering wheel to breathe. Akaashi isn’t going to fall in love with him in one week. There’s no point in any of this. He should just give up. He should just forget about Akaashi and probably move to a different city just so he can get away from it all. All of the bad memories and the heartache, Bokuto just wants it all to disappear.

He sighs deep and manages to drag himself out of his car. His tie came undone during the drive and his shirt is untucked; his hair also lost some of its hold and looks a little bit flat. He looks like a total slob now, but there’s no point in getting all gussied up anyways if he can’t get a respectable job for it. He hopes that there’s still some beer in the fridge, he can _really_ go for one.

When he trudges up the stairs and down the walkway to his apartment, fumbling for his keys, someone calls out to him. He looks up, exhausted eyes meeting Akaashi’s beautiful, concerned ones.

“Bokuto-san,” Akaashi starts, approaching the drummer. He has a small stack of papers tied with a bright yellow ribbon clutched to his chest, and it looks like he’s been waiting out in front of Bokuto’s apartment for a while since he looks just as tired as Bokuto.

“What are you doing here?” Bokuto asks and Akaashi frowns.

“I’d like to ask the same thing about you.”

“Well I _live_ here so-”

“Why didn’t you show up at practice today? Sarukui-san told me that you _quit_.”

Bokuto frowns, suddenly feeling on edge. “Yeah, I did. I wanted to look for another job,” he says defensively.

“How can you just _abandon_ Lev when this his first showcase? I thought you loved to teach music and you cared about these kids,” Akaashi says flatly.

“Well, I did. But I decided that I needed to better my situation. What’s wrong with that? I want to earn some more money just like everyone else does,” Bokuto says. Why is his heart beating so fast in his chest right now? It isn’t the nice feeling that he usually feels when he sees Akaashi. Now, it’s just some anxious feeling like _he’s_ the one that’s cheating on Akaashi and he just got caught.

“That sounds really selfish of you,” Akaashi says, his tone so disappointed and confused.

“It’s not selfish. Why are you trying to make it out like I’m the bad guy here?” Bokuto accuses.

“I’m not trying to make you out to be the bad guy. I just don’t understand how a guy that is so kind and sweet and generous would want to throw it all away just to become some mindless corporal drone,” Akaashi murmurs.

Bokuto is getting frustrated the longer that he looks at Akaashi. It feels the longer that he stares into those pretty emerald eyes, the more the color seems to be shifting into that light shade of copper he once loved to be swallowed up by. Akaashi’s hair doesn’t look like those soft coal curls that tickle his nose and smells so sweet; they look like that perfectly straight, straw blonde hair that he used to gently run his fingers through. He isn’t looking at Akaashi anymore, it feels like some horrible hybrid of Akaashi and Aki wrapped up into one to tell him that he _isn’t good enough_.

He’s not good enough for Akaashi. He wasn’t good enough for Aki. He isn’t enough. He’s _never_ enough.

“What’s wrong with being some ‘mindless corporal drone’, huh? I don’t want to be living in this crappy apartment building for the rest of my life. I might want to own a really big house, drive a fancy car and get to travel the world. Can’t be doing that teaching some kids to just make a bunch of noise,” Bokuto says with a trembling noise. _I want to be good enough for you. I wanted to be good enough for Aki. I just want someone to want me for what I have to offer. Why am I not **enough?**_

“You’re supposed to be above that material bullshit. This isn’t who you are,” Akaashi says and Bokuto scoffs.

“Well, what about _you_ then? You’re into all that material bullshit,” Bokuto spits and Akaashi clenches the small stack of papers tighter.

“What are you talking about?”

“What am I talking about – you’re just marrying Souichi cause he’s got money! Not like he has a beautiful soul to fall head over heels for!” Bokuto snaps.

Akaashi’s eyes grow wide and Bokuto instantly regrets ever opening his mouth in the first place.

The image of Aki washes from Akaashi’s features and all that Bokuto can see is shock and hurt clouding those emerald eyes. His body is trembling and his lips are twisted in so much pain, trying to remain stoic and failing miserably at it. Bokuto’s hands are clenched into tight fists and he _wants_ to reach out and pull Akaashi into his arms. He wants to hold Akaashi’s hand and beg for his forgiveness, he wants to tell Akaashi _everything_.

Akaashi lets out a shaky breath. “You _asshole_ ,” he croaks and throws the stack of papers up in the air, the ribbon coming undone and allowing all the sheets to fly out in all directions. Akaashi pushes past Bokuto and briskly walks to the stairs to leave the building, holding his hand to his mouth to hold back any noise that might be mistaken for a sob or a hiccup.

Bokuto’s feet don’t move to chase after him; his voice doesn’t come up to shout at Akaashi to wait. Instead, he crouches down and begins to gather up the papers that have fallen to the ground, mind completely numb. A few seconds after he gathers a small stack in his hands, he notices that these aren’t regular papers. They were blank pages of sheet music with three staves printed on them, a bass and treble clef and a spot to write rhythm for any percussion. In the bottom right hand corner next to the number, there’s a cute little doodle of a small owl playing the drums and hooting to the song in its head. On the even pages, there’s a different doodle of an owl playing piano and having the time of its life.

In the bottom left of the pages, there’s a little note that Bokuto instantly recognizes as Akaashi’s pretty handwriting.

 

**_Words and Music by Bokuto Koutarou_ **

****

Sheet music for Bokuto to write songs on instead of having to use his father’s old sheet music. Akaashi made him a _present_.

Bokuto stares long and hard at the sheet music clutched tight in his hands. He then gets up and takes his keys, quietly entering his apartment and locking the door shut behind him. He places the sheet music onto his kitchen table and heads to his bedroom.

Bokuto takes his pillow and brings it to his face, screaming loud into the fabric until his throat goes sore.

* * *

 

Time seems to go by a lot faster when you’re alone and drunk.

Bokuto isn’t even sure what day it is or the time, nor does he really care anymore. He hasn’t spoken to Akaashi and he’s ignored all calls from Sarukui and Konoha. He doesn’t deserve anyone’s kindness, he’s _scum_. This is all he’s worth, a useless nobody slumped against the bar nursing a bottle of bourbon. No wonder Aki never loved him. No wonder Akaashi will never choose him over Souichi. He’s just so _pathetic_.

A whimper croaks out of his throat and he paws for the bottle to drown away his sorrows. When his fingertips graze against glass, the bottle is instantly pulled from his grasp. Bokuto raises his head and blinks, seeing a distinctive blur standing above him holding his precious bottle.

“Figured you’d be here,” the blur says. It sounds a lot like Kuroo actually.

The blur reaches out and grabs Bokuto by the collar of his shirt and yanks him to his feet. He struggles to gain his footing, quickly grabbing onto the edge of the bar to steady himself. Bokuto turns to the blur, vision clearing just a bit for him to recognize the unruly mess of hair on Kuroo’s head. He reaches a hand out to press against the side of his temple, groaning at the sudden dull ache forming in his head.

“How did you find me?”

“Figured that you would be responsible and not take your car out and get wasted, so I checked around the bars near your place. Bro, what are you _doing_ here? Konoha-san told me you quit your job and you haven’t been answering anyone’s calls-”

“My life went to shit, that’s what happened,” Bokuto says groggily and plants himself back onto the stool. Kuroo scowls and takes the stool next to Bokuto, keeping a firm grip on the bottle of alcohol.

“Did something happen with Akaashi?”

“Yeah. . .yeah, something happened. That double date thing I went on? When Akaashi and his friend left the table, that _bastard_ that he’s marrying tells me he’s cheating on him. And I-I just can’t tell him because Akaashi loves him and I don’t want to break up a marriage,” Bokuto says and runs his hands through his hair. “I don’t know what to do, man. I’m just really confused and it feels like I can’t even _breathe_.”

"You love him, don’t you?” Kuroo asks and Bokuto rubs his face before he sighs.

“Yeah. . .not like it matters, though. I’m not perfect for him. I’m just going to be forever alone-”

“Oh my _god_ ,” Kuroo groans. “You _still_ think that love is this _perfect_ little thing that you can categorize when it’s _not_. Bokuto,” Kuroo leans in forward, clapping a firm hand on Bokuto’s shoulder, “me and Kenma aren’t perfect. Neither is Yukie and Kai. But the fact is that in spite of times that we may argue or seem totally incompatible, we _love_ each other. Who the fuck cares if you’re not making the big money like his fiancé? You obviously love him more, shouldn’t that be the only thing that counts? Money can’t buy happiness.”

“. . .Yeah but-”

“Are you just going to give up on him then? Without even _trying_ to tell him how you really feel? Do you really think that little of yourself that you won’t even give Akaashi the chance to reject or accept your feelings-”

“But what if he _does_ reject me? What if I. . .I can’t, I _can’t_ -”

“You need to try,” Kuroo says and squeezes Bokuto’s shoulder. “Just try, bro.”

Bokuto bites the inside of his cheek and runs his tongue over his dry lower lip. He doesn’t want to try. It’s easier to just wallow in his misery, Bokuto admits. But at the same time. . .he doesn’t want to give up on Akaashi. He wants to apologize and tell him the truth and tell him how he really feels. Even if it means that Akaashi will just say that he doesn’t love him. Even if it means that Akaashi won’t believe Bokuto telling the truth about Souichi. He has to tell him, before he suffocates on all the feelings that’s been building up behind his rib cage for the past few weeks.

Bokuto looks up at Kuroo. “Can you give me a ride?”

* * *

“Oh, Keiji,” Ai coos and straightens the silvery tie around Akaashi’s neck. “You’re so _handsome_. Oh, you’re going to leave everyone in awe when you walk down that aisle.”

Akaashi hums in response, not used to his mother fawning over him like this. He chooses to focus on his reflection in the mirror as his mother helps with the little details of his suit. It’s so nice, a pure white with silver accents around the cuffs and buttons. There’s a lilac corsage pinned to his chest right above his heart with small emeralds nestled near the stem to match his eyes.

Yet, his eyes are dull in the reflection. Empty and emotionless, like his mother is just dressing up a life-sized doll.

“. . .Mother. . .do you like Souichi?” Akaashi murmurs. Ai stops her grooming to raise an eyebrow at her son.

“Of course I like him. What’s not to like? He’s tall, handsome, intelligent, has a well paying job to support the both of you and a family. And he has good taste because he picked someone as beautiful as you to be his husband so there’s also that,” Ai says with a little giggle and cocks her head to the side. “Why do you ask?”

Akaashi sucks in a shaky breath. “Mother. . .I don’t think I can do this. I don’t think I really love Souichi.”

Akaashi sees the expression on his mother’s face twist into shock and irritation. He’s done it now.

“ _What?_ W-Why not? What are you talking about – the wedding is _Sunday-_ “

“I know, I know. But I-I just been spending so much time with Bokuto-san and I-“

“Bokuto-san? The _manchild?_ ” Ai laughs, not at all humored. “You’re thinking about leaving Souichi for _him?!_ You told me that there wasn’t anything between you two!”

“I didn’t say I was leaving Souichi for Bokuto-san! I just - I’m just not ready to get married!” Akaashi shouts and raises his hands to his head. “I’m just really confused and I don’t know anything anymore, Mother. So can you _please_ just-”

Ai bites her lower lip and raises her hand to gently brush a curl behind Akaashi’s ear.

“Maybe. . .you’re just having pre-wedding jitters. You know, cold feet. Everyone gets them. I got them before I married your father,” she says with a smile. “Of course, if I would have known how much of an idiot he is, I probably would have run out of that church screaming down the street. But the point is, Souichi is the one for you. You don’t have to second guess this. You two are going to get married Sunday and it’s going to be the happiest day of your life.”

Akaashi looks into his mother’s eyes, feeling drained but offering up a weak smile. “Okay. . .okay. . .thanks.”

Ai smiles and leans up to kiss Akaashi on the cheek. “I better get going before it gets too late. I’ll drop by tomorrow and take you out for brunch, okay?”

“Yeah. . .okay,” Akaashi mutters. Ai gives a smile and walks out of the bedroom, Akaashi following after her. He watches her grab her purse and slip on her shoes, before she gives another goodbye and leaves the small apartment. Akaashi sucks in a breath and trudges back into his bedroom, looking at himself in the mirror.

He’s going to be married on Sunday.

He’s not ready to be married on Sunday.

He’s. . .he’s not in love with Souichi. At least, he doesn’t feel the same way about Souichi like he used to.

Akaashi sucks in a breath and looks at his phone on the bed. He has debated on whether or not to call Bokuto, but the drum instructor’s words left a bad taste in his mouth. Yet, Akaashi still can’t stop thinking about him. His amber eyes or the strong hold of his arms. His scent that lingers in his clothes and on his skin, his laugh and his smile. All Akaashi can think about is Bokuto; Souichi is usually now an afterthought.

Akaashi takes his phone in his hands and turns it over, nervously biting his lip. He doesn’t even know if Bokuto will answer, especially since Sarukui and Konoha haven’t been able to get in touch with him or even see if he will bother to show up for the showcase tomorrow. Thinking about Bokuto is making Akaashi’s head hurt and his chest tight, so he sits down on his bed for a moment so he doesn’t feel so. . .faint.

Eventually, after sitting and staring at the phone in his hands, he dials a number and brings it to his ear, hoping the other person will answer.

He only waits for a few seconds, before he is met with a sleepy yawn.

“ _Hello?_ ” the person answers in English and Akaashi sighs in relief.

“Dad?”

There’s a moment of silence before Akaashi hears rustling on the other side.

“ _Oh, Keiji! My little Ducky! How are you – well it’s rather late there, isn’t it? It’s morning over here. What are you doing up so late? Did something happen? That battle axe didn’t do anything to upset you, did she?_ ”

He literally only woke up a second ago, yet Akaashi Shun is firing on all cylinders. It brings a smile to Akaashi’s lips.

“I’m fine and no, Mother didn’t upset me. I just. . .I just wanted to ask you something.”

“ _Ask away, Ducky._ ”

“Well. . .let’s say you were going to marry someone, hypothetically, and this person is perfect. But then, you meet someone else and they’re everything the person that you’re marrying isn’t. But they’re so kind and loveable and you just can’t help it but. . .”

“ _Hmm. . .well, did this hypothetical person fall in love with the second person? And does this hypothetical person feel bad about falling out of love with their fiancé?_ ”

“. . .They do,” Akaashi murmurs quietly. Shun hums.

“ _And this thing that the hypothetical person feels for the second person, can they ever say they felt the same way about their fiancé?_ ”

Akaashi pauses and tries to recount his and Souichi’s relationship. They became closer when his parents started showing favoritism for Souichi to marry Akaashi, but they never really spent time together like Bokuto and Akaashi did.

Souichi brings him flowers and takes him out to dinners, but he doesn’t spend time talking about silly things or texting back and forth over the phone. They don't hang out with friends and they don’t go out for dessert afterwards, they don’t laze around listening to music or sit with each other over some coffee and cake. Even when Akaashi moved out here to be closer, it only seems that they grew even _more_ apart in Akaashi’s eyes. He just. . .he just wants someone there next to him, someone he wants to call more than a friend.

Someone like Bokuto.

He wants Bokuto.

He _loves_ Bokuto.

Akaashi gives an audible gasp and he hears his father chuckle.

“ _So if he makes you happy, Ducky, then maybe **he’s** the one you should be marrying_. _Simple as that._ ”

“. . .But what about Souichi and the wedding and _Mother_ and-”

“ _You should probably talk to Souichi about the wedding and how you’re feeling. If you honestly fell in love with this other man, you shouldn’t be forcing yourself to marry someone you don’t really love just to make **us** happy. I might have given your mother hell while you were growing up and still make her blood pressure rise now, but I love that old bag and I know she loves me too._”

Akaashi gives a small sigh of relief and smiles. “Thank you. I-I’ll tell them both tomorrow. . .I still feel awful though.”

“ _Better feeling awful now and both of you two having another shot at happiness than feeling awful now and miserable for the rest of your life. Trust me, I should know._ ”

“Dad, you _just said_ -”

“ _I know, force of habit. I love her, honest. But don’t worry about it. Maybe Souichi himself might not be ready to get hitched either and we’re putting just as much pressure on him to marry you. A good talk will sort things out, I’m sure of it.”_

“Yeah. . .yeah, okay,” Akaashi says and mulls it over in his head. He loves Bokuto and he needs to tell Souichi the truth. He doesn’t want to hurt Souichi’s feelings, but his father is right. He doesn’t want to put Souichi through years of suffering from Akaashi’s unhappiness because he isn’t sure he married the right person. He just _really_ needs to talk about this, face to face. These confused feelings have been clouding his mind for far too long.

“ _So, what’s he like? Is he cute?_ ” Shun asks inquisitively and Akaashi laughs.

“He’s. . .different. I think you’d like him actually,” Akaashi says, getting up to walk into the living room. “He’s so sweet and funny and _strong_. His smile is so gorgeous and his eyes are _so_ captivating. He always makes me laugh and. . .I’m in love with him. I love him _so_ much,” Akaashi breathes. He loves Bokuto. He _loves_ Bokuto.

Meanwhile on the other side of Akaashi’s front door, Bokuto pulls his fist away from preparing to knock.

Kuroo managed to get them down to Akaashi’s apartment building quickly and Bokuto rehearsed his lines to say to Akaashi as much as he could. He was going to tell Akaashi how right when he wakes up, all he thinks about is him and he wants him by his side till he grows old. He wants to tell Akaashi how beautiful his eyes are and how he can stare into them for all eternity and never get tired of how they sparkle or the enticing shade of green they are.

He _was_ going to say all of that.

But before he knocks, he hears Akaashi talking from inside. He sounds. . .so happy. Gushing about someone with beautiful eyes and a gorgeous smile that he loves so much. . .it must be Souichi. . .who else would Akaashi talk about?

_He sounds so happy. Are you really going to ruin his happiness just so **you’re** happy?_

_Akaashi is perfectly fine with Souichi. What makes you think you’re any good for him?_

_Even if you love him, is it enough?_

Fear paralyzes Bokuto’s arm and he can’t bring himself to knock. He stands there and stares at the door, listening to Akaashi talk on and on about how much he loves Souichi and how happy he is that his father (must be on the phone) managed to talk him out of any doubts he might have had. He’s too late. He’s going to marry Souichi and Bokuto can’t stop it.

Bokuto feels his lips curve into a small smile, though there is no happiness in it.

He sighs and nods his head, then sticks his hands in his pockets and quietly leaves Akaashi’s doorstep.

* * *

“He sounded so happy, man. I just couldn’t do it. I don’t want to make him upset. . .maybe, he’ll change, you know? Maybe, his fiancé will appreciate how _lucky_ he is to have someone as beautiful and smart and kind as Akaashi and he’ll be faithful, right?” Bokuto slurs into his arm, slumped over the bar. He’s not ready to go home, but he doesn’t know what else to do. He’s already downed most of the bottle of whiskey and the alcohol isn’t making him feel any better.

Kuroo just watches him with pity and sips from his glass of water. “I don’t know, bro. If he was content cheating on Akaashi for this long, who’s to say that he’ll stop when they’re married? In fact, it’s probably going to be even more stress on Akaashi and keep him out of nosing into his private life if they have kids,” Kuroo says and Bokuto hums.

“Akaashi should have a little girl. She’d be the cutest thing and she’ll have his pretty eyes. . .I would have really loved to be her daddy too,” Bokuto mumbles. Kuroo places a hand on Bokuto’s broad back and gives it a couple of gentle pats.

“Come on, big guy. Let’s get you home,” he says and gets up, trying to help Bokuto up onto his feet.

The front door of the bar opens and in comes a small crowd of five guys, hooting and hollering and obviously drunk. Kuroo doesn’t pay them any attention and is far more concerned with getting Bokuto home and getting back home to Kenma himself. Bokuto himself is completely out of it, physically and emotionally drained. The loud shouting makes his head hurt and he turns to look at who was making the noise.

When bottle green eyes meet his, Bokuto feels his stomach drop and his skin go cold.

Souichi grins, one arm slung around the blond from the picture he showed Bokuto and another trying to support Tendou from crashing into the wall. “Oi, Bokuto! Funny seeing you here! You just seemed so _boring_ that you wouldn’t be the type to go drinking!” he slurs, crass and loud. Souichi looks different from the usual clean and polished look that he shows in front of Akaashi and the others. His face is peachy red and his tie is undone, and he looks like he’s ready to pick a fight with the first person that he comes across.

_This_ is who Akaashi is marrying Sunday. Bokuto feels like he wants to vomit.

“Who’s this asshole?” Kuroo whispers, eyes glaring daggers and his grip on Bokuto tightening as the crowd moves in to surround them both.

“Akaashi’s fiancé.”

“ _Really?_ ”

“Eh, who’s this guy?” Souichi asks, looking Kuroo up and down with a sneer. But then, his eyes lock on Kuroo’s left hand, specifically the gold band around Kuroo’s finger, and his sneer quickly turns into a grin. “A _married_ man? Guess you’re not boring after all, Bokuto-kun! I admit, there _is_ a certain thrill when taking someone that belongs to someone else,” he laughs and Bokuto’s eyes widen.

Kuroo lets his grip on Bokuto slip for a moment as he turns to Souichi with a fist raised. “ _What did you say, you_ -”

“Kuroo, wait,” Bokuto says and holds him back. He turns to Souichi and bites his lower lip, glancing at the blond curled up in Souichi’s side. “Why. . .why don’t you just stop all this and go home? Akaashi is a good person and he deserves _more_ from you so just stop with all this cheating bullshit,” Bokuto spits.

Souichi blinks, then gives a soft chuckle. He unwinds his arm from around the blond and smirks coy.

“You better not snitch to Keiji about any of this. I know you got some creepy little crush on him,” Souichi snarls and gives Bokuto a rough shove in the shoulder. Kuroo steps forward to shove back, but Tendou quickly gets in Kuroo’s way with a smug smile of his own. Bokuto keeps his footing, raising his fists.

“Look, I’m not here to fight-”

“Eh? So you’re boring _and_ a wimp? Fine, you and your friend could leave with your tail between your legs. We won’t stop you,” Souichi laughs and clears a path for Kuroo and Bokuto to leave. Bokuto bites the inside of his cheek and lowers his fists for the moment, grabbing Kuroo by the arm to pull his friend towards the doors.

He ignores the snickers and glares all around him, keeping his eyes cast towards the door. He wasn’t going to fight. He’s bigger than this. He’s bigger than the drunken words spewing out of Souichi’s mouth. He’s not going to fold. He’s _not_.

“Tch, you wouldn’t be good enough for him anyways. Keiji would rather go to bed with a _real_ man. That’s why he chose _me_.”

Bokuto stops in his tracks and grips a tight fist. He turns and without warning, swings a blind punch. It immediately connects with Souichi’s lower jaw and the bar erupts into chaos.

Hands grab at Bokuto from all around and tug him to the floor, Kuroo struggling to get the men off and throwing some punches himself. Bokuto makes a feeble attempt to block his face from the fists and the kicks, but it does very little to protect himself. A couple of fists connect to his nose hard enough for him to feel the sticky ooze of blood beginning to drip from it. Souichi delivers a couple of kicks to his stomach and stomps, cursing and shouting while the blond that he came in with desperately tries to pry him off of Bokuto before he does serious bodily harm.

“Stop it! He’s down already!” the blond shouts.

“Oi! I’m calling the cops!” a bartender shouts and Souichi delivers one last kick to the side of Bokuto’s head before he clicks his tongue and rubs his jaw.

“Fine then,” he grumbles and looks down at Bokuto on the floor. “Maybe that’ll teach you not to stick your nose in other people’s business. Come on,” he says to his companions. Kuroo watches them go, rubbing his own jaw that got a couple of punches.

The blond leans down and helps Bokuto get into a sitting position at least, before he quickly follows after the group and exits. Kuroo crouches down and helps Bokuto up to his feet the rest of the way, throwing Bokuto’s arm around his shoulders. Bokuto’s face is swollen and his nose is bleeding and he’s sure that he has a black eye to go on top of it. Kuroo has a couple of bruises on his face and his arms, but nothing too bad. He’s always been the better fighter, Bokuto is a lover at heart anyways.

“. . .Come on, let’s get you home,” Kuroo says quietly and slowly walks out of the bar with Bokuto in tow.

* * *

It’s extremely late when Kuroo finally arrives at Bokuto’s apartment, having stopped for a small bag of ice and some pain meds at an 8-Eleven. The swelling has gone down just a little and the bleeding has stopped, but Bokuto still looks like a pathetic mess. When Kuroo pulls up and puts the car in park, neither of them say a word and sit in silence.

Eventually, Bokuto gives a sigh.

“I’ll never be able to live with myself if I let him go through with this,” Bokuto says quietly. “I need to set things right with Akaashi tomorrow at the showcase. Even if he hates me for it. . .god if that bastard ever gets drunk and did that to _Akaashi_ -”

“Do it. I won’t forgive you if you don’t,” Kuroo says and Bokuto gives a weak smile. “You gonna be okay? Need me to be up there too. Just in case that asshole tries to show his face again?”

“Nah, I don’t think he cares enough to see a couple of kids performing. I don’t think we’ll have to worry about him showing up,” Bokuto says and looks over at Kuroo. “What about you? Kenma’s going to wonder where you got all those bruises.”

Kuroo rubs his face. “Ah, it’s not that bad. Besides, I got them fighting for a friend. I think that makes me rather noble, don’t you think?”

“The best,” Bokuto says with a grin and Kuroo grins back.

“You need help getting up to your place?” Kuroo asks and Bokuto shakes his head. He still feels a little drunk and the ache in his head doesn’t help, but he’s sure he could stumble his way to his apartment on his own before he collapses into his bed.

“I’ll be fine. . .but thank you. For everything,” Bokuto says. So many times, Bokuto feels grateful that he has a friend like Kuroo to be there for him. Kuroo smiles and rubs Bokuto’s shoulder.

“No problem. I’ll always be here for my best bro. My brother from another mother.”

“My salt to my popcorn,” Bokuto says fondly.

“My peanut butter to my jelly.”

“My meatballs to my spaghetti.”

“But I hate meatballs,” Kuroo laughs and Bokuto laughs too. Bokuto raises his fist, bruised around the knuckles.

“Wish me luck,” Bokuto says and Kuroo nods his head, tapping his fist against Bokuto’s. He watches as Bokuto slowly gets himself out of the car and begins to trudge into the apartment complex with a drunk stagger. Kuroo bites his lip and starts the ignition.

He hopes everything turns out alright. For everyone’s sake.

* * *

Bokuto finally makes it to the floor of his apartment, his vision fading in and out. He’s just so freaking _tired_. He might just pass out on the couch if he doesn’t make it to his bedroom. A couple more awkward steps and he grabs a hold of his apartment door’s handle.

To his surprise, the door opens with ease. Unlocked.

He doesn’t remember leaving his front door unlocked, but his mind doesn’t register the strangeness of his door being unlocked. Instead, he gives a tired sigh and trudges into the genkan to take off his shoes and step inside. He fumbles in the dark, dragging his hand against the wall as he decides to just call it a night and fall asleep on his couch.

He’ll have to wake up early tomorrow to get to the showcase and apologize to Konoha and Sarukui and his students. He’ll also have to apologize to Akaashi and tell him everything. His real feelings, the truth about Souichi, _everything_. The faster he gets to sleep-

“So you’re finally home?” a voice calls out and Bokuto blinks. The television is on, illuminating a person waiting patiently on Bokuto’s couch with their long legs out on display for Bokuto’s eyes to rake over. “Good thing you still have that spare key under the mat. I could have frozen out there waiting for you, Kou-ta-rou~”

“. . .Aki?”

Aki smiles. “In the flesh,” he coos and gets to his feet, sauntering over to Bokuto with a sway in his hips.

Bokuto blinks. “What the heck?”

Aki drags a gentle hand up Bokuto’s arm. “Did you get into a fight? Why is your face swollen?” Aki asks curiously and Bokuto shakes his head, eyes begging to close and fall asleep and heart beating erratically in his chest.

“W-What are you doing here? Did I already pass out and I’m having a nightmare right now or-”

Aki laughs. “You’re drunk, aren’t you? Oh, you’re so cute when you’re all confused.”

“I must be adorable right now then,” Bokuto says dumbly and Aki steps closer, bodies pressing against each other.

“You’re not dreaming, Koutarou. I’m here, baby. And I want to come back. For us to be _together_ ,” Aki whispers, giving a small kiss to Bokuto’s throat. Together. . .that sounds nice. . .Bokuto wants to be together with Akaashi. . .Akaashi. . .he wants Akaashi. . .he doesn’t want to be alone. . .

“. . .I’m tired of being alone,” Bokuto mumbles, his body feeling heavy and his eyes straining to stay open as Aki gently peppers kisses up Bokuto’s neck and pushes him towards the bedroom.

“You’re not alone anymore,” Aki murmurs into Bokuto’s skin, smiling up at him with those sultry eyes. He leans up and kisses Bokuto firm on the mouth, just as the back of Bokuto’s legs collide with the edge of his bed and they both fall onto the mattress.

The last thing Bokuto thinks about is Akaashi’s face, those beautiful eyes and the softest pair of lips that he’s ever kissed, before his consciousness fades and his mind goes into darkness. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i can't believe i missed bokuaka day *hits head on desk*
> 
> next chapter is the last chapter tho!!!
> 
> (and sorry if this sounds kind of rushed because i'm half typing, half dozing off, half doing chemistry homework and half watching all the eps of jojo's bizarre adventure to watch diamond is unbreakable OTL so much anime, so little time OTL)


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